


The Forms

by TokitoTaishirou



Category: Avengers (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America Cards Are A Thing, Coulson Holds A Grudge, Fun Bonding Times for Teammates!, Fury Puts Up With A Lot Of Things, Gen, Hashtag Coulson Lives, He Has No Room To Argue, Hidden File Rooms, Hilarity Ensues, Misappropriated Bureaucratic Forms, Revenge Plots, Schenanigans, Tony Fucking Stark, Who Came Up With These Beautiful Things?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-25 23:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 31,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TokitoTaishirou/pseuds/TokitoTaishirou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...Because, after all, S.H.I.E.L.D. is still a bureaucratic organization. One day Clint and Natasha were very bored. They find a series of old Forms that have yet to be completely fazed out. Fun ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Airing of Grievance

**Author's Note:**

> Before anyone tries to accuse me of anything, I should mention that this story is cross-posted from my account on Fanfiction dot net. So…I know that there's an image of this form filled out pretty much like this, in that it's from Coulson to Fury, floating around on the Internet but my sister and I decided to take our own spin with it. Mainly because we have the whole book that it's from, and also because we wanted to do our own thing with it. I should also mention that I am brand new on Archive of Our Own; because of this, the formatting may be a little different than usual. Please keep patience with me as I learn more about this new site. Thank you.

OFFICIAL NOTICE  
 **AIRING OF GRIEVANCE** (Form G-7001)  
Statement:

To: (Name of Recipient) Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. From: (Name of Sender) Agent Phil Coulson

I am sending you this message to alert you that I find your behavior of (Offensive Action) destroying my mint condition, painstakingly collected Captain America cards to be particularly (Sensation) reprehensible. I wish to draw this to your attention because you may not be aware of the effect that it is having on others. Specifically, I feel (Feeling) a quiet burning rage whenever you (Details of Offense) enter a room. As an alternative, I would suggest that instead you could (Preferable Activity) replace each and every card, an action that I would find to be (Number) one thousand times better. If you choose to persist in your (Offence Restated) disregard for people's treasured possessions I may have no choice but to (Dire Consequence) fill out Form V-22 (Declaration of Romantic Feelings) in your handwriting and present said form to Deputy Maria Hill. While this is another possible solution, it would be (Positive Modifier) preferable for both parties if we could avoid it.

Filing Date: REDACTED

Gravity of Offense:  
Negligible—Middling—Incalculable  
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- ** _X_**

Offence Frequency:  
Incessant  
Constant  
Frequent  
Occasional  
Rare  
 ** _Once_**  
Not Yet Occurred

Sentiment:  
Thank You  
 ** _Sincerely_**  
 ** _Most Seriously_**  
It's Not Personal  
Respectfully  
With Love  
 ** _Without Love_**

Parties Offended:  
 ** _Myself_**  
 ** _Others_**  
 ** _Society_**  
 ** _God_**

Please Respond:  
Never  
 ** _Immediately_**  
At Your Leisure

** _Include Apology_ **

Additional Notes: Yes, God and Society were offended as well. Some of those cards were one-of-a-kind. I still expect them to be replaced, or at the very, very least fixed.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Director Nick Fury read through the missive on his desk again, still not quite believing what he read. He thought for sure that those Forms had been burnt, or at least lost forever in deep storage. He had a feeling that he knew who it was that dredged those horrible things back up—and for once, it wasn't Tony Stark. Director Fury sighed, knowing that this wasn't going to stop anytime soon. If anything, it was going to get worse.

And, if he were being completely honest with himself, Director Fury had to admit that even he liked the Forms a little. Luckily being honest wasn't part of his job description.

He paged Agent Hill to his office, reading through Agent Coulson's note once more. She entered the room silently, standing a respectful distance away from his desk. Judging by the hint of a smile that she was working on suppressing, she found out about the Forms already.

"Sir?"

"Agent, I want you to track me down the Formal Apology Form." He had a feeling that he would need it.


	2. Formal Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Director Nick Fury gives Agent Phil Coulson his apology. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Second Form. There are about fifty of these altogether, so this story will be going on for a while. Also, you may have noticed that these will be formatted slightly differently. Hopefully you'll be able to tell what the character(s) 'filled in' on their forms.

OFFICIAL NOTICE  
 **FORMAL APOLOGY** (Form A-001)  
Statement:

To: Agent Phil Coulson From: Director Nick Fury

It has come to my attention that my action of (Behavior Which You Regret) using your cards to unite the Avengers and thus save the world from alien invasion and Loki could be seen as _… **Offensive** …Annoying… **Selfish** … **Hurtful**_. I never intended to (Consequence of Your Action)  cause you undue distress after being stabbed through the heart. I want you to understand that I was merely trying to (Your Intention) unite the Avengers and thus save the world from alien invasion and Loki, though I can now see how it could appear that I was (Perceived Motive) being callus. Please accept my (Adjective) reluctant apology. Moving forward, I will attempt to (Proposed Solution) have your cards cleaned to their original condition or locate new ones for you. That said, I would very much appreciate it if you (Request For Other Party) would stop carrying on so, get back to work, and don't get the Avengers involved. Sincerely, your (Relationship to Person) boss, (Your Name) Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.

_Filing Date : REDACTED _

_Sincerity_ :  
 _Heartfelt—Begrudging—Technical_  
 _X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- **X** -X-X_

_Excuses_ :  
 _It is a habit._  
 _ **I am a naturally selfish person.**_  
 _I thought it would be funny._  
 _I did not know it bothered you._  
 _ **You were never supposed to know.**_  
 _I was…hungry…lonely…intoxicated._  
 _It was my evil twin._

_I feel…_ :  
 _Terrible._  
 _Guilty._  
 _Stupid._  
 _Sorry._  
 _ **Blameless.**_  
 _ **Vindicated.**_  
 _ **Better Now.**_

_Please… :_   
_Forgive Me._   
_** Be Patient With Me. ** _   
_Give Me Another Chance._   
_** Forget It Ever Happened. ** _   
_** Do Not Try to Get Even. ** _   
_**Do Not Call The Police.** ('Police' is crossed out and 'Avengers' is written over it.)_   
_Do Not Tell My Parents._

_Additional Notes: They are just cards, Agent Coulson. I would expect someone with your rank and maturity to get over such things. I'm already getting you new ones, anyway. Tell Hawkeye and Black Widow to stop using these forms and put them to rest. The last time they were used was the first time Captain America was around._

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Director Fury subtly sent along a blank Form for A Grant of Forgiveness, but it was never filled out and returned. The Forms didn't stop, either.


	3. Acknowledgement of Occasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint gets an offer he can't-and doesn't want to-refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to add more 'story' like elements to the chapters. Hopefully it will link the Forms together better. Also, it should be noted that these chapters don't necessarily follow chronological order. Some will, but others could take place earlier or later than others. I hope this isn't too confusing.

Clint sighed tiredly, making his way back to his barracks on the Helicarrier. He used to have a set of barracks at S.H.I.E.L.D. until his little… 'run-in' with Loki. Ever since, agents have been walking on pins and needles around him. Agent Coulson suggested keeping to the Helicarrier for now. Since Phil was his handler and friend, and obviously concerned for his safety Clint felt like he had no choice about it. Worse yet, he couldn't even complain about it.

He was just coming back from his last psychological evaluation with the medical team. It looked like they were finally agreeing that he wasn't traumatized by being mind controlled, and they didn't think he was a threat to his fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.

Well, within reason.

Seriously, though. Clint really didn't want to stay on the Helicarrier anymore. Natasha was rarely on board, and even if she was there more it didn't change the fact that Clint was going stir crazy. He wanted to be able to move around, not be confined to some plane in the sky. Even if he could leave, where would he go? No doubt his old barracks back at headquarters have already been given to someone else. Clint supposed he could always rent an apartment somewhere, but that would take time, what with all the background checks. And then he would have to give them some kind of phony background as well. That was more of Natasha's thing rather than his.

It looked like he would just have to stay on the Helicarrier some more. That would be perfect for his nerves.

He was just approaching his barracks door when he noticed it. There was a little slip of paper sticking out from where something was clearly stuck under his door. Already wary after his last appointment, Clint was really in no mood for any surprises. He continued down the hall until he came to the nearest air duct. He looked down both sides of the hallway first, making sure no one was coming or looking at him before entering. He was starting to be infamous for using the ducts as a means of travel, and if it meant that he didn't have to suffer through more teasing at his expense then he was more than ready to make sure that nobody saw him.

He looked through the vent that led to his room, checking every vantage point that he could see. The only thing that looked out of the ordinary was the official looking document that was lying on his floor. Frowning, Clint slowly lowered himself into the room. He spun around, gun out—but there was nothing behind him, either. He approached the document, briefly looking over its contents. When he saw who it was from, he immediately lowered the gun.

Clint picked up the Form (what else could it be?) and read it over, groaning. He couldn't help the slight smile on his face, though. Sometimes it was nice to have friends.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

OFFICIAL NOTICE  
 **ACKNOWLEDGEMENT OF OCCASION** (Form G-26)  
Statement:

Dear (Name of Recipient) Katniss/Legolas/Robin Hood/Green Arrow Wannabe (yeah, I went there.),

It has recently come to my attention that you will soon be observing (Event) the end of your psych evaluation. This is a (Adjective) for you, I suppose routine occasion. I propose you should commemorate this (Adjective) auspicious time by (Suggested Activity) immediately moving in to the Avengers Tower (trademark). It is not every day that one has a chance to (Consequence of Suggested Activity) live with a super-soldier, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, a demi-god/alien, and a man with extraordinary anger management issues. I hope that you feel very (Sensation) grateful. Wishing you (Sentiment) to hurry your feathered ass up and move in already! Your (Adjective) incredibly handsome (Relationship to Person) soon-to-be roommate, (Your Name) Tony Stark.

Additional Notes-Brevity is a Virtue  
I can't believe you and Stalin kept these beautiful, beautiful things from me. Shame on you. Luckily, I'm going to go with the assumption that you were too busy trying to figure out how to beat the psych eval, so I'll give you a pass. This time. By the way, you should totally move in now. So yeah. Do that right away.

Did I mention we have Shwarma? I'm thinking of making it trademarked as the Avengers food of choice.

_Filing date_ : REDACTED

_Occasion :_  
 _Quinceaños_  
 _Engagement_  
 _Wedding_  
 _Anniversary_  
 _Divorce_  
 _Birthday_  
 _Bar Mitzvah_  
 _First Communion_  
 _National Holiday_  
 _ **Fictional Holiday**_  
 _ **Graduation**_  
 _ **Life-Alternation**_  
 _(write in) **Somehow Convincing S.H.I.E.L.D. Medical That You're Sane**_

_Message Sent :_  
 _Ahead of Time_  
 _ **Just in Time**_  
 _ **Past Due**_

_Attachments :_  
 _ **Love**_  
 _Gifts_  
 _Cash_  
 _ **Thanks Requested**_

_Please Reply :_  
 _Never_  
 _ **Immediately**_  
 _At Your Leisure_

_Significance of Event :_  
 _Forgettable—Notable—Life Changing_  
 _X-X-X- **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Sincerity of Sentiment :_  
 _Bona Fide—Honest—Simulated—Artificial_  
 _X-X-X-X-X-X- **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Disclaimer :_  
 _The Sender Denies Any Responsibility For the Consequences of Suggested Activity._


	4. A Written Letter of Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Director Fury sends in his apology letter. Unfortunately, it's not all that apologetic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter is short.

Bureau of Communication Form Z-24890  


A WRITTEN REORD OF REGRET

_I find myself wishing for a Time Machine._

Why, you might ask? If I had one, I would use it to (Action You Would Have Taken Had You Known What Is Now Known) use different, fake Captain America cards to save the world. No doubt this sounds trite (moreover, an unduly optimistic assessment of my ability to alter the flow of history), though it is unfortunately true. It's taken longer than it should, but I'm realizing that life is considerably harder than I had ever imagined. Why were we never told that (Newly Realized Life Lesson) a crazy 'god' from another world would come and attack, attacking and injuring you and giving me the opportunity to unite the group of superheroes we both know were the only ones capable of stopping him? I am certainly old enough to know better—so how could I have been such a (Self-Deprecating Comment) quick thinker and opportunist?

I do not know how to put this (thus, I have resorted to corresponding via fill-in-the-blank forms), though if I could to express my feelings in words, they would be:

I AM SO, SO, SO SORRY.

Moreover, if I had the space, I would write the word "so" about (Large Number) zero more times. And I fear that even then it would not properly describe how I feel. Needless to say, this is a tricky situation I find myself in.

Though I have accepted that my time-travel wish will most likely not be fulfilled, I still hold onto hope that someday this terrible situation will somehow be repaired. I know it will not be easy, but I am willing to work for it. Very, very, very hard.

Sincerely, your (Humbling Adjective) annoyed (Role) boss, (Name) Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Phil Coulson, on yet another one of his visits to the Tower, looked on with his usual slight smile as the Avengers laughed in varying degrees of excitement. Black Widow, of course, merely had a smile that was even slighter than his and released maybe a chuckle or two. Dr. Banner had his hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking at suppressing his enthusiasm. Captain America sat back on the couch, a pleased smile on his face. He did look a little uncomfortable at first since this whole situation was about his trading cards, but even he laughed when he saw the lengths that Fury was going to to try and smooth the Incident over. Hawkeye was on the floor, having been overcome by giggles. By far and large, though, the loudest and most enthusiastic laughter came from Thor and Iron Man, who couldn't seem to stop long enough to get a breath of air. Stark's face was turning red, and Agent Coulson would have to be worried about informing Pepper of his hyperventilation soon.

Luckily, it seemed that Stark was finally starting to calm down.

"You-you know, when I suggested that you 'hold a grudge' over your cards, I didn't think it would end like this," Stark choked out.

Agent Coulson gave him a mild look. "So I suppose I should let it go then?" The Avengers gave him their curious attention. "After all, now that he's sent an apology note—again, I should point out—should I send him my Grant of Forgiveness?"

It really wasn't that surprising when, as one, the room shouted "no!" at him. It was just as well. Agent Coulson really did love his cards. And Director Fury had yet to deliver a new set, or clean the old one.


	5. Declaration of Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers have something that they would like Director Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. in general to know. Luckily, there's a Form for that.

I, the undersigned, do formally and publically offer forth this: DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one person to dissolve the personal bonds which have connected them with another and assume their autonomous individual stations, decency requires that they declare the causes which impel them to separate.

Thus, I shall explain my motivations: While our time together has surely been beneficial for both parties, I realize that in order to pursue justice as the Avengers, I will need to set off on my own. My reasons are too plentiful to enumerate, so I shall record but a few:

FIRST: I must be able to act as we see fit without consulting you first.

SECONDLY: I believe that the freedom to live our own goddamn lives without you telling us what to do all the damn time (with the exception of Hawkeye and Black Widow who actually work for you) is a right and not a privilege.

THIRDLY: Your demands that I live and breathe for you idiots and jump at your every command, not to mention the breaches of security and privacy of _my own tower_ (who's tower?/ Technically it's Pepper's by 12%/ Yeah, but we live here too/ Guys, that's not the point right now!) are becoming increasingly  unacceptable, Stark, just go with that (I was going to say a pain in the ass, but that works too) for me to comply with.

FOURTHLY: I wish to achieve my goal of finally being able to live out our own lives as we see fit, which I fear I would never be able to do if we remain together.

FIFTHLY, AND FINALLY: You are not as scary as you once were.

In conclusion, we chose to yoke ourselves together under our own free will, and I now choose independence using to same God-granted right. I respectfully request your compliance in the coming days, and trust you to maintain your steadfast character throughout. Godspeed, and Farewell.

Sincerely, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Tony Stark, AKA The Avengers.

Relationship Emancipation form by The Bureau of Communication, Form Number 30-03857

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tony nodded his head, content with what was in front of him. He looked around the table at the other Avengers, all of whom agreed and contributed at some point to the drafting of this fine document. Okay, so they only filled in the blanks, but still. Who ever came up with it in the first place was a genius, and Tony knew genius when he saw it.

It was high time, he decided, that the Avengers became their own group. Tony chafed at being hounded after by Fury and his minions, and he never responded that well to authority figures, anyway. He didn't even have to convince everyone else to go along with his plan, either. Steve was only too happy to sign when he found out that he would not only be doing something so very 'American' as signing a Declaration of Independence, but he was also apparently chafing at being ordered around by Fury. Now, being an army man, Steve understood orders. He may not have liked all of them, but he still followed them. Fury's orders, on the other hand, were a whole other story. After lying to them about Coulson, Steve took what Fury said with a grain of salt and started liking the idea that Tony was preaching, that they should be their own group. Steve really wanted to trust all of the people he worked with, and he couldn't do that when they were still under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s thumb.

Bruce was just happy that he didn't have to keep looking over his shoulder to make sure that the S.H.I.E.L.D. handlers weren't going to shank him in the back. Big organizations made him nervous, especially after what happened between the army and the Big Guy. Bruce much preferred staying somewhere safe, and Tony went out of his way to make sure that his tower was safe and welcoming to his friend.

Thor, bless his Asgardian heart, didn't really get the notion of what they were doing at first but when he was told that they were 'breaking away from their oppressors' so that they 'could do good work in the world' he was all in. Tony only felt a little guilty for saying that to him, but Thor seemed okay with it even after Steve and Bruce glared at Tony and explained it to him correctly. That was all he asked for, really. Even Thor knew that it was better to work with each other than to be under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s beck and call to get anything done. Apparently, they had bureaucracies in Asgard as well, and they were just as disliked there as they were here.

Clint and Natasha, Tony thought for sure, would have been the hard-sells since they, after all, worked for the organization that the Avengers were trying to break away from. As it turned out, the two assassins were perfectly okay with their plan. In fact, they were the ones who provided the Form that they used. Tony immediately declared his love for the both of them and suggested either a threesome or a foursome if they included Pepper. They both glared at him, though it was hard for Tony to tell with Clint since he liked to wear his sunglasses. Instead, he wisely backed off and let them be the first ones to sign their names.

All in all, though, Tony was very pleased with himself. He only hoped that the bugs he had JARVIS install into the S.H.I.E.L.D. mainframe were still operational. He definitely wanted to see Fury's expression when he got their Form.


	6. Unfortunate News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's high time that Agent Coulson learns the fate of his beloved cards. Fortunately, Clint and Natasha know just how to break the news to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Form that started them all... Also, I really, really hate trying to format this chapter. No matter what I do, the 'Form Identification' part just won't... grr.

Natasha looked over her shoulder balefully at her partner-in-crime who was giggling maniacally as they crawled through the air ducts. They really needed to move quietly if they wanted to make sure they didn't get caught, but Clint was just too happy to have been sprung from medical that he apparently couldn't help himself. Soon he would be transferred over to the Helicarrier to undergo his psych evaluation, so in the meantime his very considerate partner decided to spring him for a little bit of fun before he was locked away on an airplane somewhere. Natasha shook her head. She would have rather used any other means of escape than the air ducts, especially since they were more of her partner's area of domain. But, as Clint gleefully pointed out, they would easily be spotted on the regular walkways and they hardly ever monitored the duct system. Also, it was harder for others to follow them.

She couldn't really argue with that kind of logic.

"Do we even know where we're going?" she grumbled.

"I have no idea," Clint admitted. He didn't sound nearly as worried as he probably should have, in Natasha's opinion. She scowled. She hated wasting her time.

"Then why are we here?"

"Because I've never seen this area before." Natasha actually paused at that. She looked over her shoulder again but Clint's expression was just as serious as his tone. She blinked, the only sign of her surprise at his statement. It was no secret that Clint liked to travel through the air vents at times. It was just kind of assumed that he had covered every inch of the air duct system at Headquarters at some point. Natasha should have known better, though. She gave Clint a considering look before continuing on.

"This is some surprise trip away from medical."

"I know." She could practically hear the grin in his voice. "God, I think there must be a whole section they were hiding from the rest of us. Aren't you glad we didn't escape using 'normal' means now?" Natasha chose not to deign him with an answer. Up ahead she could see a vent opening big enough for them to use.

"Let's try here." Carefully she pulled open the vent covering and jumped the ten feet between the vent and the ground. She spun around, guns out to make sure no one tried to attack her. Since this area wasn't even on any maps that she hacked from Fury's computer, then it stood to reason that anything living in here would have been dangerous in some shape or form. Instead, all that stood around her were rows and rows of filing cabinets. Natasha lowered her guns, a little let down at the discovery.

"Can you see anything?" Clint asked from up in the vents. Natasha sighed and looked back up at him.

"It's just a bunch of file cabinets." Her statement was met by silence.

"Did I just hear you say 'file cabinets'?"

"Come see for yourself." Natasha shrugged. She walked down one of the aisles, idly glancing at the faded labels that were covered under what had to be several decades worth of layers of dust. Clint landed on the ground with barely a sound. He let out a low whistle when he saw just how big the room was, and just how many filing cabinets there were.

"This must be the place where files and paperwork go to die," he said in a hushed voice. Natasha nodded idly, grimacing at the dust and grime residue left on her fingers after trying to read the names on the different file cabinets.

"Don't tell Coulson that," she remarked. "He may actually die this time." Clint chuckled, walking down the aisle next to hers. "Speaking of which, do you know what the rumors are saying this time?"

"What, that 'Loki's magic staff didn't actually hit a kill spot', that 'Fury got to him in time', those kinds of things? The only thing I can _do_ in medical is get caught up on the rumors." Natasha froze for a moment when she saw a cabinet that was supposedly exclusively for the Super Soldier serum. It would probably be in everyone's best interests if she forgot she ever saw that.

"Do you know what Coulson has to say about his fake death this time?"

"'UFO Sightings in Relation to Einstein-Rosenberg Bridges?' The hell?" Clint swore from his aisle. "Oh, not much. Something about taking over his cousin Jean's reputation or something."

Natasha frowned, skimming over a cabinet that apparently held the secrets of how to make the perfect sentient robot that wouldn't turn on its creator; judging by the way the files were hastily stuffed in, it must not have worked out too well. "He's mentioned her before, right? From the Grey side of his family? The one who's on scholarship to that prestigious school upstate?"

"That's the one," Clint affirmed, reading labels under his breath. "Hey, does it bother you that we know more about his life and family than others do about us?"

"Not at all."

"That's what I was thinking, too. Hey, what's this?" Clint's voice trailed off, obviously having found something. Natasha really didn't want to stay in her aisle anymore after finding a whole cabinet dedicated to something called 'Ultron' and its creator, so she headed to where Clint was. And by that, she leapt over the row of cabinets separating them. In front of her was an ordinary looking cabinet that didn't really seem to stand out from any of the others around it. The only thing that made Natasha give it a second glance was its ordinary looking label— _Retired Forms_. The title was so innocuous compared to the others that she had seen that Natasha could understand why Clint was drawn to it.

She sent her partner a sideways glance. "Should we open it?"

"Why not?" Clint agreed with her, stepping back so that she could take a crack at unlocking the thing. "We still have to give Coulson a 'You're Back From The Dead Again' gift anyways. Why not some old forms?"

It took a moment but Natasha was able to snap the old, rusted lock easily. Clint shuffled in close to her, both looking through the contents of the file cabinet. It looked like old forms, of course. It was only after reading through them a second time that Natasha was really able to comprehend what she was seeing. Judging by the look on Clint's face, he saw it too.

"Is this for real?" he asked her. Natasha didn't reply. Her eye caught on a form in particular that reminded her of an important task that they still had to accomplish.

"Clint, do you think anyone's told Coulson about his cards yet?" Clint flinched at the question. They knew what those cards meant to their handler and friend. Hell, they had even collected one or two of them for him as a present from missions they had gone on in the past. It would be a terrifying blow to Coulson to learn what became of them.

"No, not yet," he said. "I think they're waiting for us to tell him, that way he'll get angry at us." Clint scowled. Cowards. He and Natasha weren't even there when it happened! Just because they were his 'favorite' assets didn't mean he wouldn't make their lives a living hell for that. To his surprise, however, Natasha turned to him with a small smile on her face.

"I know just the way to break it to him."

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

FILL-IN-THE-BLANK CORRESPONDENCE

  


  
**UNFORTUNATE NEWS** (Form Z-789)

  


Message:

Dear (Name of Recipient) Coulson,

How have you been? I've been (Positive Adjective That Does Not Reveal News) busy adjusting to life with the Avengers/being forced into medical observation. Life is (Fine/Good/Great) fine in (Geographic Region) New York. The weather has been (Description of Meteorological Activity) rainy. I've been enjoying (Seasonal Food You Enjoy) pop tarts offered up by one of the gods themselves (Thor). How is your (Thing Recipient Enjoys) paperwork? Recently, I saw a film entitled (Name of Film) Indiana Jones all about (Brief Description of Film) preservation and discovery of lost and important objects of historical and sentimental value, which I thought was (Two Word Impression of the Film) delightfully droll. I think you'd (Love/Hate) hate it. Aside from that, (Life/Work/Everything) work is good. I have been sleeping (Description of How You Have Been Sleeping) on pins and needles/like a baby and I had a funny dream that (Begin Foreshadowing the Impending Bad News) something important had been destroyed or defaced, though I have no idea what it might symbolize. Oh, one last thing: (Finally, Deliver the Bad News Here) Director Fury took your Captain America cards from your locker, covered them in blood and used them to traumatize your idol (and Tony Stark) and (Consequence of This Unfortunate Event) unfortunately, we don't think they can be saved.

Thanks for being so (Positive Adjective) understanding that this was all Director Fury's fault and that I (Hawkeye) was under mind control at the time and I (Black Widow) knocked it out of him, (Your Name Here) Clint and Natasha.

_Upon Further Thought_ :  
 _ **I Should Have Told You Sooner**_  
 _It Is Not As Bad As It Sounds_  
 _You Will Get Used To It_  
 ** _At Least I Am Still Alive_**  
 ** _I Am As Surprised As You Are_**  
 ** _We Should Have Seen This Coming_**  
 ** _At Least I Have Got My Health_**  
 ** _I Promise I Will Fix This_**

_The Official Stages of Grief_ :  
 ** _Shock_**  
 ** _Denial_**  
 ** _Anger_**  
 _Bargaining_  
 ** _Depression_**  
 _Acceptance_

_You May Also Experience :_  
 _** Surprise ** _  
_** Disappointment ** _  
_Guilt_  
 _** Anxiety ** _  
_** Nausea ** _  
_** Wrath ** _

_Carrying On :_  
 _I Propose Our Next Steps Should Be: Look, Coulson, we have an idea and a plan. We found these Forms back in storage and we figured there has to be something here you could use. We'll bring them by later when we come visit. And, if all else fails, we can get Stark and the Cap involved; they definitely won't take this lying down. Tasha says that she can attest for how annoying Stark is. Just remember, it's not the end of the world yet. We can still make Fury pay, and Clint's going to talk Cap into posing for new cards for you. We'll even make sure he signs this pair. Just know that we're here for you._

_ On another note, Tasha managed to steal your original cards. You don't have to torture yourself looking at them, but know that they're here if you want them. Much love, Clint and Natasha. _

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Coulson felt something he hadn't felt in a long time when he read the missive from two of his favorite agents. In fact, he wasn't sure if he's ever felt this way before. A quiet rage simmered inside, threatening to consume him. It was only his cool professionalism that he had spent years cultivating that kept his usual mild expression on his face. He wasn't proud, however, that his hands shook almost imperceptively. There really was no excuse. Why would Director Fury use his cards like that? Didn't he know what they meant to Coulson?

Of course he did. He must have decided to use them to try and bring the Avengers together. After all, Coulson himself was the one to tell Fury to use his 'death' as a means to make them put aside their differences. But did that mean that Fury had to go so far as to use his precious cards as a motivator?

_They were mint condition! And there was only slight foxing around the edges! Did he have any idea how long and hard it was to collect them all?_

Coulson shook his head slightly. He needed to control his anger. Focus it somehow. He re-read the Form from Barton and Romanoff. Despite himself, especially in his current state of distress, Coulson found himself amused. He had heard tale of these Forms before, but had always thought that they were a kind of bureaucratic myth. It was somewhat fulfilling knowing that they really did exist. Barton and Romanoff suggested in their note that he use some of the other Forms to get even.

Coulson allowed himself to let a genuine smirk flit across his face briefly. If some of the rumors about the Forms were correct, he could use his patented passive-aggressive tendencies to get his revenge. In fact, if the rumors were true, then there was a Form just for that. And then there was the realm of possibilities of what would happen if he allowed Stark of all people to find out about these Forms. Oh, the satisfaction would feel great.

Now, to find Agents Romanoff and Barton. He had a new mission for them that involved infiltration, espionage, diplomacy, and a great deal of stealth.

After all, he couldn't have Director Fury finding out about his revenge plans just yet.


	7. Declaration of Romantic Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Maria Hill receives an...unexpected letter, to say the least. Meanwhile, the Avengers are still planning (read: plotting).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have new reason to dislike Firefox. Luckily Google Chrome lets me access my own account. On another note, my restraint for this Form is quite admirable; it could have easily been much dirtier than it is.

OFFICIAL NOTICE

  
**DECLARATION OF ROMANTIC FEELINGS** (Form: V-22)

Statement:

Dear (Name of Recipient) Director Fury, I wish to inform you that I consider you to be a very (Superlative) superb human being, a quality which I consider (Adjective of Magnitude) amazingly attractive. Frankly, the world is filled with many (Undesirable Human Quality) icky people, though you are far more (Remarkable Characteristic) intelligent than them. I find myself daydreaming about (Plotline of Your Fantasy) being called to your office where you admit that you always wanted me to be closer to you, I throw my arms around you and we admit our love to the world. Your (Body Parts (Plural)) eyes are like (Rare or Precious Thing) palladium and your (Body Part (Singular)) mouth reminds me of (Something Desirable) vibranium. I would happily (An Extreme Act) murder the World Security Council in order to (Purpose of Such An Absurd Act) make you completely in charge from now until forever. I can only hope that you feel the same (Euphemism For Attraction) adoration toward me. I eagerly anticipate your candid reply. Sincerely, your (Relationship to Recipient) for now subordinate/future wife and lover, (Name of Sender) (very) special agent Maria Hill.

_Extent of Interest :_  
 _Confused—I Have A Bit Of A Crush—Infatuated_  
 _X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- **X**_

_I Have Felt This Way Since_ :  
 _I Was Born—We Met—This Morning_  
 _X-X-X-X- **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Suggested Activities :_  
 _Gazing_  
 _ **Flirting**_  
 _ **Conversing**_  
 _ **Dancing**_  
 _ **Kissing**_  
 _ **Copulating** _  
_Breeding_  
 _ **Cohabiting** _  
_Knot-Tying_  
 _Growing Old_

_Please Reply :_  
 _ **Immediately**_  
 _At Your Leisure_  
 _No Reply Necessary_  
 _ **In Writing**_  
 _ **And/Or In Person**_  
 _ **With Enthusiasm**_

_Disclaimer :_  
 _This notice is intended to alert you to my feelings at the moment. Feelings may change rapidly and without further notice. In the event that you are interested, act quickly._

_Further Notation :_  
 _Please Refrain From The Use of Poetry— Hey, Agent Hill. This is the Avengers. In case you haven't realized, this is blackmail. We have several copies of this Form on hand, some with a few changes. One we actually let Tony write himself. I think you can imagine what it says. And, in case you were wondering, we've also written a few that could plausibly be yours, especially since Agents Coulson and Romanoff are experts at copying handwriting. This Form is to let you know that if you don't give Clint Barton his medical discharge so he can be with the rest of us, we will be sending one of our Forms to the Director._

_ I think you know what you have to do. _

* * *

Agent Hill glared furiously at the Form she was just handed. She didn't respond well to blackmail; never did, as a matter of fact. She was unwavering that way. She did not like to be forced into anything, especially since it was usually a bad situation that just made things worse. Hill believed quite firmly that if you showed even a little bit of hesitation others would walk all over you. And Agent Hill did NOT get to the position she had today by letting others trample her into the ground. 

She set off at a brisk pace down the hallways of the Helicarrier, growling viciously. A few agents who passed her quickly looked away and hurried away as fast as they could. Good. They should have a healthy fear and worry of their commanders. Some would call it respect. Agent Hill preferred not lying to herself; if she couldn't trust herself, who could she trust? 

As she expected, Agent Coulson was sitting as calm as can be in the break room. He liked to keep his non-habits, even after being off active duty during his 'death'. Hill had to admit, even she didn't see his faked death coming; she thought for sure that he was actually dead. Fury was still as devious as always. 

Hill slammed the accursed Form down on the table in front of his egg salad sandwich. Someone must have cleaned out the good sandwiches. She couldn't help but feel vindictive. To her frustration, Coulson merely looked up with that stupid, trademarked mild expression on his face. The most he gave her was a slightly raised eyebrow that just made her hackles raise as well. 

"What's this?" she demanded. Coulson glanced at the Form and then back up at her. Damn him, he even looked amused. 

"I believe it is a Form declaring your romantic feelings for our director," he said simply. "I have to say, Maria, I didn't think you would choose some of these phrases. I guess it's true what they say about girls in love-" 

Hill slammed her hands down again, cutting him off. "You know that is a damn lie, and sexist to boot. If Agent Romanoff were here, she'd slit your throat." 

"Then I suppose it's a good thing she's not here," Phil said. Hill didn't believe his misogyny for an instant. He was just trying to get a rise out of her, and she was loath to admit that it was working. He knew exactly how to get under her skin. 

"The point is," she ground out, "I'm not going to give in to your team's blackmailing efforts. For one thing, I'm not even in a direct position to oversee Agent Barton's treatment, let alone decide when he gets out of it. For another, I believe he still needs to be observed for a longer period of time. He's uncooperative, and a loose cannon. He shouldn't be allowed back out in the field." 

"You know as well as I do that he was always like that," Coulson said sharply. "He was good enough then, and he's good enough now. In case you're still worried, though, he won't even be working for S.H.I.E.L.D. directly. Agent Barton has been chosen, like Agent Romanoff, to be part of the Avengers Initiative. Yes, they weren't originally supposed to take part but I believe that their actions during the Manhattan Invasion have more than proven their worth." 

"Fine," Hill snapped. "Spin your stories, have your favorites become superheroes. I don't care. Just leave me out of this!" 

For the first time in the conversation, Coulson actually looked guilty. "I'm sorry, Maria. But we've looked it up, and Barton can only be released early with either the consent of his direct medical supervisor or…have an agent with commanding level clearance order his release. As his immediate supervisor and handler, I'm too…attached to do so objectively." 

Hill took a deep, steadying breath. She hated it when they fought. He had a gift for making her feel like the bad guy. "I don't know what you want me to say, Phil. Under what grounds would I have for releasing him?" 

Coulson smiled at her. "You're resourceful, Agent Hill. I'm sure you can think of something." With that, he stood up, gathered the remains of his sandwich and made a graceful exit from the room. A passing agent glanced back at him, a shocked look on his face. He must not have heard that Coulson was still alive yet. Maybe he wasn't Level Seven. 

"I still don't appreciate being blackmailed, Coulson!" she shouted after his retreating back. She groaned, looking back at the Form. Even if Fury didn't believe it (which she really doubted he would), other agents would. Unfortunately, intelligence wasn't necessarily a high priority for new recruits. 

Well, if there was one thing she could do it was intimidate those at medical who thought they were all that. Sometimes, it wasn't that bad knocking others down a peg or two. 


	8. Sentiment of Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Bruce Banner can't express himself very well. For all other times, there's The Forms. Alternatively, Bruce is super grateful that he's not with General Ross right now. KThxBai.

When Bruce Banner first heard about the Forms, he thought that they were an amusing topic of conversation. At most, something fun for the team to do together as a bonding experience. He thought for sure that he would never need one. Why would he? He was a scientist, one that worked with Tony Stark on multiple occasions. It was a long time since Bruce last worked for any facility that would require him to use paperwork. Tony certainly never required him to if he could help it.

However, after a certain incident that Bruce preferred not to think about he came to the conclusion that he would need to tell the team how he felt. Better yet, he would need to show them somehow. It was when he was locked up in his lab that he came across the list of Forms that Tony had taped up all over the place that he had his idea.

Bruce was never good with interacting with people. Hopefully, a Form would be able to do that for him. When he was finished with the Form, he left it in the common living room area where they would be sure to find it and returned to his lab. He needed to get to work on trying to figure out how he was going to repay everyone...

* * *

OFFICIAL NOTICE

  
**STATEMENT OF GRATITUDE** (Form TY-009)

Statement:

To: The Avengers From: Dr. Bruce Banner

I wish to take a moment to properly thank you for (Action Leading to Your Gratitude) not handing me over to the army and General Ross when they called and asked politely earlier. You should know that I am (Adjective) extremely grateful. Your action shows a most remarkable level of (Virtue or Quality) friendship, companionship and family. While lesser individuals would have merely (Inferior Action) handed me over right away and collected in on the reward money, you chose to (Recipient's Superior Action) tell the army where they could stick it. I am honored to have such a (Complementary Adjective) wonderful group of human being as a teammates (sorry, this Form was for singular usage, but I chose plural). To express the true extent to my appreciation, I would have to (Extreme Act of Generosity) upgrade all of your weapons.* Well done!

Sincerely, your (Relationship to Recipient) forever grateful teammate, (Your Name) Dr. Bruce Banner.  
 _*Note: This statement is an expression, not a promise, and thus bears no guarantee._

_Extent of Gratitude :_  
 _Effusive—Temperate—Restrained_  
 _ **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Cause For Gratitude :_  
 _Presentation of a Gift of Offering_  
 _ **Volunteering One's Time or Abilities** _  
_ **A Singularly Remarkable Act of Kindness** _  
_ **An Act of Self-Sacrifice** _  
_ **A Private Deed of Goodliness** _  
_ **Ongoing Acts of Virtue** _  
_A Reversal From Selfish Ways_  
 _(Fill In The Blank) **Saving me from the Hulk-Buster units and General Ross.**_

_Your Virtues : (In the margins is a scribbled note: I only thought some of these things applied to some of you, so I left them blank.)_  
 _ **Bravery** _  
_ **Patience** _  
_Discretion_  
 _Honesty_  
 _Purity_  
 _Cleanliness_

_I Am (Blank Space) :_  
 _ **In Your Debt** _  
_ **Still Sorry** _  
_ **Confused** _  
_ **Overwhelmed** _  
_ **Going To Repay You** _  
_Exaggerating_

_ Additional Notes: Again, I just want to say that I am extremely grateful and touched that you didn't turn me in to General Ross. I know that I cause a lot of trouble for you, particularly with The Other Guy, so I just want to say that I will make sure to keep out of trouble for you. I really don't want to bring anymore danger to your home, Tony, especially after you let me stay here. So, I just want to say thank you, to the whole team. _

* * *

The Form was later sent Return-To-Sender with an additional note attached that read as follows— _Bruce, don't be an idiot. From: Your friends and family who do that kind of thing because they know that you would do the same for them. Moron._  



	9. Official Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Coulson receives an interesting invitation to a party. What could go wrong?

FORMAL STATEMENT

OFFICIAL INVITATION (Form I-7001)

To: (Name of Recipient) Agent Agent From: (Name of Sender) Tony Stark on behalf of the Avengers

Dear (Relationship to Recipient) Handler that S.H.I.E.L.D. assigned because they think that someone can actually handle us, your presence is requested at (Event) The Avengers' House-Warming Party. It is sure to be a (Modifier) exciting event, and we would be (Emotion) amused to have you participate. We plan a great deal of (Activity) drinking and (Additional Activity) celebrating, though we do not intend to (Unplanned Activity) break anything this time. If that is a requirement, you may wish to pursue other opportunities. We await your response.

_ Crucial Details _   
_(Day of the week)- REDACTED, (Month/Day/Year)-REDACTED (Start Time)-6:00 pm New York City Time_   
_(Location+Address) Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York City—Where That Ugly Old Met-Life Building Used To Be_   
_(Additional Notes) Look, Coulson baby. If you don't come, we'll probably just get up to something stupid again and then where will we be. You'll be annoyed and faced with unpleasant paperwork, we'll be getting yelled at, Pepper will send me to the couch of my own tower again, and the city may be in ruins. All because you didn't come to our party. Do you really want that on your conscience? I'm told by Stalin and Legolas that you have one. So, save us all some trouble and come to the party. I also may have even invited that cellist of yours to come down and the Assassin Twins may have told me that they have yet to actually meet her. Do you really want that to happen while you're not there? Think about it. In the meantime, R.S.V.P. that you'll be coming, okay? Great._

_Plans Include :_   
_Grazing_   
_ **Feasting** _   
_ **Alcohol** _   
_ **Debauchery** _   
_ **Music** _   
_ **Cinema & Gaming** _   
_**Feats of Strength** (written in next to here is a note: After all, Thor's going to be there and apparently he invited some of his Asgardian friends. Diplomatic relations, no?)_   
_(Write In) **Public Nudity. Maybe.**_

_Dress Code :_   
_Costume (This is originally underlined, but later crossed out viciously)_   
_ **Black Tie** _   
_ **Intimate** _   
_ **Dancewear** _   
_ **Swimwear** _   
_ **Professional** _   
_ **Come As You Are** _   
_ **[X] To Be Enforced** _

_Please Bring :_   
_**Sustenance** _   
_ **Intoxicants** _   
_Associates_   
_(Write In) **Emergency Contact Information; Be Honest, We'll Probably Need It.**_

_Kindly :_   
_ **R.S.V.P.** _   
_ **Be Punctual** _   
_ **Tell No One** _   
_ **Come Alone** _

_Your Absence Would Be :_   
_Unforgivable—Conspicuous—Preferable_   
_**X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Fine Print : The Bearer of this ticket is officially invited to attend the event indicated. Invitation is only valid on the date and time indicated. Event may be cancelled without additional notice. Invitation is non-transferable. Folded or Bent tickets will be refused. Cash Value: Less than 1/20th of 1 Cent._

* * *

Agent Phil Coulson was deeply amused with this latest Form sent to him, though he was a little curious. It had been a while since the full Avenger team moved and settled into the Avenger tower; why did it take so long for them to have a 'house-warming party' as they were calling it? Perhaps it had something to do with liability issues with Stark Industries. He could certainly see why Pepper would want to minimize any potential damage. And, if what Phil read was true, then there would be Asgardians arriving to the party as well. Lord only knew what that would be like.

Then there would be the other invitees to look after. If he knew Barton and Romanoff, they would probably invite old 'work buddies' of theirs. He would probably know some of Barton's from S.H.I.E.L.D. or his file, but Romanoff's friends were a mystery. And possibly enemies.

Steve Rogers, since he was new to this time era, wouldn't have many friends to invite over. He did, however, have fans and a pretty waitress who was maybe interested in him. From what Coulson was able to find out, most of the fans that would come to the party were old army veterans and their family.

Tony Stark, as the main host of the party, would no doubt have an entourage that had to be seen to be believed. Rumor was that Lt. Colonel Rhodes would be flying in as well.

Doctor Banner would probably try to pretend he wasn't there, which with the kind of luck and karma that the Avengers get would mean that he would end up on the army's radar. No doubt they would try to sneak into the party to start something, not realizing that they would be facing an entire room full of people that would stop them with extreme prejudice.

It had the makings of a logistical nightmare.

That would be something that Coulson would pay to see. Luckily, he had a free invitation…


	10. Revisionist History Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint wants to assure Thor that a particular event he may or may not have witnessed did not actually happen as he may or may not have seen it. In unrelated (cough) news, Thor really needs to have a talk with his 'comrade in arms'.

PERSONAL DOCUMENTATION

**REVISIONIST HISTORY LESSON**

Let The Records Show

Dear Thor,

It has come to my attention that you mistakenly believe you caught me committing an unsavory act—(Activity Which Never Took Place) eating the last box of pop-tarts. Lest you think otherwise, let me assure you that you are mistaken. In fact, I was merely (Innocuous Activity) wandering around in the air ducts, and any similarities to the former action were just imagined on your behalf. It is an understandable mistake, and I will attempt not to judge you for making it.

With that cleared up, it would be wise to remember how quiet I remained when I discovered your (Bad Habit) dis-assembly of Tony's robotic children/pets, or perhaps the time you were caught (Illicit Activity) with Natasha's perfumes. A similar level of discretion in these matters would be most appreciated. If further untruths about my actions were to spread, I may be forced to (Threat) reveal all that I have seen in the air ducts. Please fill out the attached testimony receipt and return it to me promptly. Neither a threat nor a promise, (Your Name) Clint Barton, Hawkeye.

* * *

Thor was quite angry. And frustrated, to be honest. He of course knew all about trickery and tomfoolery, having been brothers with Loki for as long as he could remember. He knew how some people, like his brother, liked to pull pranks on others, and how they seemed to enjoy in the mischief that they caused. Often times, Thor would join in their laughter when he saw a good joke come to fruition. Most times the other party understood that it was all in good fun, and even Thor himself would laugh at times when his brother pulled a good one on him. Usually that involved Loki making a clone of himself to deceive Thor, and truth was that that got old after a while but he knew how much such things meant to his brother. So, with good grace, he would go along with it.

There was one thing, however, that Thor could not and would not abide by. And that was blackmail. It was sneaky, it was underhanded, and there was no honor in it. Jokes and pranks were one thing. As long as it wasn't malicious, usually both sides ended up laughing and both parties were quite happy with each other. Usually after some quick revenge, but in the end everyone was fine again.

Blackmail, on the other hand, never ended. It kept building and building until one party, one way or the other, ended up buried in too deep. Thor would have said, before the whole fiasco with Loki, that his brother would never have taken part in such underhanded tricks. Loki liked the stage and the limelight; blackmail was kept to the shadows and known only to the blackmailer and the blackmailed. Loki's greatest flaw was that he needed to have an audience; it was what helped them stop his plans in Manhattan. But now, though, Thor felt like he didn't know his brother anymore. He liked to believe that Loki still wouldn't blackmail anyone.

So, then, what was his shield-brother's excuse for this hideous Form that was sent to Thor? Yes, Thor had been a little angry and upset that Clint had taken the last of his pop-tarts. But that could have easily been rectified by just going down to the corner store to buy him more. Was it really necessary to bring up the few mistakes that Thor had made shortly after first coming to the Avengers Tower? He had not been on Midgard for very long and they did not have these 'robots' on Asgard. How was he supposed to know what they were, or what they meant to his shield-brother Tony? As for the Lady Natasha's perfume, most Asgardian perfumes were quite different in both smell and bottle that they came from. He was merely curious and did not know what was going on.

Thor also didn't know that apparently he was being spied upon by Clint from the rafters.

Thor would gladly come clean, as the Midgardian expression said, if only to ease the trouble between his shield brothers. But to have his honest mistakes being used against him in this manner, and all over a brief dispute about pop-tarts? This was too much. This was not how a true warrior should behave.

Thor looked at the attached Form and grinned terribly in a way that reminded him of Loki when he had a truly wicked idea. He would write Clint his 'witness testimony' all right. He would also serve out to Clint what had been given to Thor, and he would post it up in the common room where the rest of the team would see. If anyone had any questions, Thor would gladly answer them.

He had no secrets like how Clint did.

* * *

**EXPERT WITNESS TESTIMONY**

Record of Observance

I, (Name of Witness) Thor Odinsson, do solemnly swear that on the (Date) REDACTED of (Month) REDACTED, I witnessed the defendant going about the honest, fair, and legal business of (Perfectly Legal Activity) snooping around in the good doctor's labs, and I am quite confident that he was not up to any malfeasance or misdeeds. Moreover, I can happily attest that he is an upstanding (Nationality) Midgardian and a very good (Kind of Person) blackmailer who I am sure would never even think of doing the terrible things that someone might misinterpret him as doing.

Sincerely, (Name of Witness) Thor Odinsson.


	11. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, the long awaited (?) Avengers House Warming Party has arrived. Nothing can possibly go wrong, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies in advance for any unintentional OOC moments by the characters.

Agent Coulson looked around the main room of the Avengers Tower. He was a little surprised at how many people could actually fit in one room. He was also quite sure that there were more scattered in various places around the Tower. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, the cellist that Coulson was seeing didn't appear to be here. He hated to imagine what the team would do to her, particularly since she didn't quite know what it was that he did for a living. Coulson may have told her that he was FBI. It was close enough to the real thing without endangering either party, particularly since things seemed to be a little rocky between them after his 'death' and 'rebirth', and this way she wouldn't meet his unstable assets. Speaking of which, Coulson couldn't see Barton anywhere and would bet a month's salary that he was currently showing off to his friends and a few extras his marksmanship in the shooting range. He could both see and hear Ms. Lewis rounding up volunteers to be 'targets' of some kind most likely in a Wilhelm Tell homage. Some of the volunteers were carrying random knick-knacks and decorations with them. Coulson hoped that Tony wasn't particularly fond or attached to them. Either way, the billionaire had insurance.

Romanoff was curled up on one of the plush couches, slight smile on her face, chatting up with some friends of her own in another language. They would laugh every now and then, no doubt sharing stories of missions that they were last on. Several had various weapons pulled out, comparing and contrasting which worked better judging by the 'demonstrations' given to several of the couch pillows. All looked savage and dangerous in a way that was repelling the other partygoers, which was also probably the point. Coulson was almost positive that at least one of Romanoff's guests was on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most wanted list. It was a good thing he came there as a guest to the party and not as an Agent.

Thor and Tony were over by the bar with about four people who had to have been Asgardian, arranging a drinking contest between the six of them. One of the four, a dark-haired man with a sour look on his face, merely watched the others and refused to participate. Every now and then a partygoer would pass by the bar and stop to talk with Tony, who would make only as much small talk as necessary before sending them on their way. Lt. Colonel Rhodes had arrived to the party about five minutes before Agent Coulson did and was still trying to make his way over to his friend. Agent Coulson didn't know where Pepper Potts was for all of this, but she was no doubt promoting Stark Industries as she did it. Dr. Foster arrived at the bar holding two different bottles of alcohol up to the group, accepting their cheers as she did so. Thor wrapped her in a hug and presented her to his Asgardian friends with a sweeping flourish of his arm.

Steve had a whole corner of the room to himself, surrounded by army personnel of some kind, all of varying ages. A pretty blonde woman that Coulson recognized as the waitress from the café down the street sat in the corner as well, just as attentively listening to Steve's war stories as the soldiers around them. From the melancholic look on his face, the good Captain must have been talking about his old friend and companion James 'Bucky' Barnes, who was lost in the mountains back during the forties. From what Coulson could remember about the report that he looked up and researched about, Sergeant Barnes' body was never recovered, much like the Captain's. He wanted to get an opinion on that, though he wasn't quite sure how to ask. Coulson unconsciously made the decision to head towards that particular corner as well, when he was stopped by Dr. Banner.

Dr. Banner's eyes were wide with anxiety and a steady strum of energy and stress seemed to move through his body. His eyes were just the barest hint of green, and were silently pleading for help. "Agent Coulson, thank god you're here!" Dr. Banner's voice was just as stressed as the rest of his body. "I didn't know there would be this many people here. Did you know there would be this many people here? Are there even this many people in _Manhattan_?"

"Calm yourself, Dr. Banner." Coulson stared at him pointedly. Tony Stark may have loved to push his friend's anger buttons every now and then, but even he would agree that it would be a bad idea for the Hulk to come out at a party like this. Especially since this party would no doubt generate good press for the Avengers. "If this party is too much for you, why not retreat to your lab? Surely Stark would allow that. Or has the party invaded there as well?" Coulson asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dr. Banner looked miserable. "I've been banned from the lab for the party," he replied. "Tony said he didn't want me 'moping around just because Ross is poking his head in where it doesn't belong'." Coulson nodded. He could see Tony pulling something like that, at least to try and make his friend feel better.

"Has General Ross been making any more trouble since the last time?"

Dr. Banner shook his head and shrugged. "If he has, no one's told me about it. They probably figured that I would try to run off if I did find out."

"Well, considering JARVIS found out that you had packed your bags and already ordered a boat ticket for China, I can understand where they're coming from." Dr. Banner had the grace to appear embarrassed, though he did smile wryly. He didn't have time to answer, though, when Tony Stark himself somehow materialized next to them. Coulson had to hand it to him; the billionaire really knew how to move through the party scene.

"Bruce-y, you have some 'splainin' to do," Tony said with mock sternness. Dr. Banner held his hands up in surrender.

"I swear; I'm not trying to escape the party."

"Good," Tony said evenly. He grabbed the doctor by his arm and started pulling him further into the room. They were heading towards where the bar, Thor, Lt. Colonel Rhodes, and the others were. "Because I have some wonderful people who would love to talk with you. Just think, they know alien science. Don't you want to learn alien science? I know I do. And all you have to do is maybe Hulk out a little so they can arm wrestle the Other Guy. Fun, no?" If Dr. Banner had any protests at all, Coulson couldn't hear them. Their voices were lost in the swell of noise coming from the party.

Which reminded the agent. He was still loitering by the elevators, when he really wanted to head over to the discussion around Captain America. Steve, though, seemed to have moved somewhere in the brief moment that Coulson spent talking to Dr. Banner and Tony Stark. In fact, everyone had moved. Romanoff and her 'friends' had disappeared, replaced by what looked like a herd of college students. Ms. Lewis and her volunteers had also disappeared, along with about half of the decorations that could be moved. Tony, Dr. Banner, Thor, Dr. Foster and the Asgardians were still over by the bar but looked like they would be moving outside to the balcony soon enough.

Agent Coulson knew he would hate himself in about half an hour if he didn't check up on the rest of the Avengers. Steve wasn't likely to get up to any trouble, but Barton and Romanoff separate or together were likely to do some kind of damage. And, if Coulson wanted to cover all of his bases, then he had to assume that Tony was behind it somehow.

Because Tony Stark always knew what went on in his tower, whether he was 'preoccupied' with a party or not. Figuring that it was probably best to go ahead and figure out where the problem children were, Coulson managed to make his way towards the relatively empty kitchen. The music wasn't quite as loud in here, and the guests entered and exited quickly after grabbing what food and drink supplies they wanted. There was a pile of plastic cups stacked up in various shapes such as the 'traditional' red cup pyramid and what looked like a surprisingly accurate model of the empire state building made entirely out of plastic cups, a pair of chopsticks, and what could have been pudding holding the entire thing together. Coulson walked over to one of the wall control panels and attempted to contact JARVIS.

" _Yes, Agent Coulson?_ "

"Good evening, JARVIS. I was wondering if you knew where each of the Avengers are in all of this chaos."

" _Of course, sir. Agent Barton, I believe, is currently in the air duct system leading a raiding party to the pantry where, and I quote, 'all of the best booze and snacks are'. Agent Romanoff is on the roof leading a martial arts/self-defense class with quite a few of her guests and others in attendance, including Ms. Lewis. Captain Rogers is with a group of veterans on one of the lower floors leading them in what appears to be a rousing chorus of '(I've Got A Gal In) Kalamazoo'. Sir is with Thor and Doctors Banner and Foster on the balcony along with Thor's guests and others. I believe Dr. Foster is attempting to teach them about her theory of the Einstein-Rosenberg Bridge with the Asgardians putting forth their own input and interpretation. Dr. Banner has attempted to make his escape five times now, but Sir won't let him._ " Coulson held back a wince, knowing how awkward the poor scientist was no doubt feeling. But at least it wasn't as bad as he feared it would be. Everyone seemed to be behaving themselves well enough, even if Romanoff decided that the roof would be a better place to teach self-defense than the actual Avengers gym would be. Maybe the gym was currently occupied. And Tony had yet to break out the Iron Man suits, so everything seemed to be going okay.

Which was exactly why Agent Coulson knew something had to be wrong.

"JARVIS, would you mind telling me where Pepper and the Lt. Colonel are?"

" _Ms. Potts and Lt. Colonel Rhodes are currently attempting to stop a group of guests from entering the off-limits lab section to retrieve and set off a series of fireworks apparently on Sir's orders. Sir claims no knowledge of such a thing, and has warned Dummy, You, and Butterfingers to 'man the lab' as it were._ "

Coulson accepted this. Tony would have wanted to be part of the fireworks rather than send someone else to get them, especially since this concerned his private and confidential labs. Even Coulson wasn't allowed in those unless he hacked the system first to let him in. More than likely, and what Pepper and the Lt. Colonel were also likely thinking, these 'guests' were corporate spies from Hammer Industries. This could be the uneasy feeling that Coulson was getting, but he still felt like the other boot was going to drop soon. General Ross and his group had yet to show, though it would be a small mercy if they didn't. Either way, Coulson probably should help Pepper out with the Hammer spies.

Around ten minutes later, Coulson was in the elevator as it took him down a few more levels to where the laboratories were. Frowning, he realized that the elevator was actually going down further, all the way to the first floor lobby. He tried contacting JARVIS but the AI's reply was basically static and white noise. Coulson looked up when the elevator doors opened to the sight of several large, masked and armed men with their weapons drawn at him.

Sometimes, Coulson wished that this was a first for him.

Keeping his mild expression on his face, Coulson raised his arms to show he wasn't armed—or rather, that he didn't have a weapon in either hand. "Can I help you gentlemen?"

"Yeah," one of the armed men said, presumably the leader. It was hard to tell since they all had ski masks on. How cliché. "You can just stand there like a good little hostage and be our meat-shield if things get a little too hairy. I heard the guy we're after is a real softy, so it probably won't come to that."

Ah, so these were the men General Ross sent in. Coulson was wondering if they'd come. Of course they would attack at the same time as the party. They were probably hoping to use the civilians as a deterrent for the Avengers.

It was a shame. 'Civilians' along with 'Red Skull' and 'HYDRA' happened to be one of the Captain's trigger words. He and the rest of his little team of misfits would just get pissed off. They weren't likely to let any of the guests come to harm, nor would they give up Dr. Banner. Coulson, for his part, wondered idly what they would do when they saw he was 'captured'. It took some effort to stop a smile from flitting on his face. Any ordinary hostage wouldn't be smiling in this sort of situation.

"Sure thing. Just make sure you take my weapons from me; I'd hate to have one of them discharge while we were in the elevator together." He was sure that the looks the masked men were giving each other would have been priceless. One of the designated men came forward slowly and started patting him down. Coulson could only see their eyes through the masks, but from what he could see the man's eyes widened comically as he found gun after knife after taser on him. The group of armed men eyed Coulson warily, seemingly unsure what to do with him. It was just as well; Coulson thrived off of the anonymity that he projected on himself. He was a little bit annoyed, however, that they weren't better at patting him down. The man from before didn't even find half of his weapons. If the man had worked for S.H.I.E.L.D., he would have been sent back to basic training immediately. Most likely to be taught by a very pissed off Romanoff and Barton.

Soon enough, Coulson was shuffled into the elevator. He was positioned to stand directly in front of the elevator doors with the armed men behind him. The barrel of a gun pressed firmly to the back of his head. It took all of Coulson's training to stop himself from disarming the man and taking out the rest. It would be better to solve things in an open environment such as Tony's living room rather than the elevator, even if the living room was currently stuffed to beyond capacity. The main armed man nudged him with the gun.

"Press the button," he demanded. "Take us directly to the beast." Coulson bristled momentarily, but hid it well. If anyone could actually call Dr. Banner a 'beast', then they clearly didn't know the man. If Phil Coulson was a petty man, he would currently be thinking that he was looking forward to what was going to happen to these men. But, Phil Coulson was not a petty man and simply pressed the button in the elevator that would be taking them to the main party. JARVIS would have realized by now that something bad had happened and would have informed Tony and the rest of the Avengers about Coulson getting held up in the elevator as well as the hacking attempts made against the Tower itself. He could only wait as the elevator took him up through the building slowly.

At last, the elevator reached the correct floor. The doors slid open and Coulson realized the first clue that he was going to be 'saved'. The music was turned off and the room was silent. A few of the flashing lights that had been put up for the party were still working, giving the room a very disjointed feeling. As Coulson had expected, all of the civilians had been moved to the back of the room where Ms. Lewis and Dr. Foster kept them back away from the elevators. From what he could see, Ms. Lewis and quite a few others had their phones out and were no doubt recording this. Coulson made a mental note to have S.H.I.E.L.D. delete the videos or at the very least edit out any parts that had him in it. He was supposed to be dead after all.

The head armed man pushed Coulson out in front of him, eyes darting out and taking in the surrounding people who all had their weapons pointed at their small group. Thor and his friends had their archaic (compared to most 'Midgardian' standards) weapons out and were brandishing some very convincing battle expressions. Tony was already in his Iron Man suit, and Lt. Colonel Rhodes was sporting the War Machine suit as well. Captain America stood at the front with his shield poised the exact same way Coulson's Captain America: Version Defense card was along with several veterans who also had their weapons pointed at the group. Steve's expression clearly said that he was not happy with the current situation. Coulson may have detected a slight increase in heart rate from the armed men; they must have recognized some of their superiors from the group and knew what would happen to them for this. Romanoff stood to the side with her friends, none of whom had weapons out for once the entire evening, but all looking extremely dangerous and poised to move into action. Barton was currently perched on top of the bar at the edge of the room but with a clear shot that could take out the man standing directly behind Coulson. Dr. Banner, the reason for the tense situation in the room, seemed to have been shuffled to the back of the room where the rest of the guests currently were. Dr. Foster and Pepper were murmuring something to him in calming voices, but it didn't seem to help the stricken look on his face. Coulson determined to keep his mild expression; he didn't want the brilliant scientist to feel guilty over something he clearly had no control over.

"What's up, Agent?" Tony asked nonchalantly. "I thought you were leaving early, and then you come back with uninvited guests? I know your invitation said to come alone."

Coulson allowed himself a brief smile. "Oh, you know. Things happen." With that, he reached behind himself, grabbed the head armed man's arm and took his weapon before the others had a chance to realize what was going on. Coulson calmly stepped to the side so that the group of men felt the full brunt of the room's gaze upon them. "Are all of your parties this lively, Mr. Stark?"

Tony snorted. "Not as often as they used to be. So, who wants to return these party crashers to General Ross?"

What followed next was a fierce argument where everyone in the room, including quite a few of the normal guests and Ms. Lewis, all insisting that they had the most right of anyone to beat these guys to a pulp. The men in question most likely started re-evaluating their career choices. And Coulson managed to finally snag a drink from the kitchen while no one was looking. All in all, it was one of the better parties that he had been to.


	12. Declaration of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Avengers Team doesn't take kindly to government agents trying to kill one of their own. They can do that themselves, thank you very much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late chapter is late. Hopefully not too much. Also, the formatting for this chapter turned out a little...different. It's hard to center groups of text without it ending up with every sentence its own paragraph. Sorry if it's not very pretty to read...

**IGNORE THIS NOTICE AT YOUR PERIL**

Having repeatedly warned you of the consequences of trying to steal/kidnap our bestie/teammate/good friend.

Having suffered the pain of your ignoring our warnings and trying anyway.

Having exhausted every reasonable measure in dealing with you.

Having been thwarted in all my attempts to live and let live.

Having accepted that you are an annoying douchebag.

Having been insulted by your very existence and continual existence.

Having put up with you invading our home to harass our family member and involve civilians in your petty conflict.

and Having seen no change in your behavior:

**IT IS CLEAR THAT THE TIME FOR DIPLOMACY HAS ENDED**.

THEREFORE THROUGH THIS OFFICIAL NOTICE

_I FORMALLY_

_**DECLARE** _

_** WAR ** _

Although it is true that my warmongering may be

constrained by my natural and ample wells of

compassion and moderation, a deeply rooted habit of

chivalrous conduct, and a persnickety obedience to the

minute strictures of international law, Let it be publicly and

privately known that despite my compunctions, I still intend to

embark vigorously, without delay, and with single minded focus to:

**GRIND YOUR BONES AND REPUTATION INTO DUST AND**

**SMASH YOUR BANK ACCOUNT AGAINST THE INTERNAL REVENUE SERVICE AND**

**WIPE THAT FACE OFF YOUR FACE FOREVER.**

Without your timely capitulation I will have no choice but to lay waste to your

business and personal affairs, to confound all your enterprises and relationships, and to

take great enjoyment in destroying and despoiling the things you love the most.

For your sake, therefore, I advise you to render your complete and abject submission to me,

including pathetic and profuse pleas for mercy, and begging me to slake my righteous anger.

Additionally, you would be well advised to make a peace offering of your full and complete resignation from the armed services

and to perform seppuku (Tony, stop; we're not going to make him kill himself/oh, fine) extortionate amounts of charity before I can express the full measure of my wrath.

**Otherwise, Face Destruction, In Every Sense of the Phrase.**

Thank you for your prompt surrender.

Please refer to the various Geneva Conventions RE: Legally Permissible and Allowed Mayhem and Destruction.

* * *

General Ross hurried down the halls of the Pentagon, snatching every single Form that he could carry. It didn't quite work, however, as the walls were practically plastered in the damned things. It was all he could do to keep his superiors from finding out about them as well as his latest fiasco with the Hulk Buster Unit in New York. It should have been a simple retrieval mission. The playboy billionaire was hosting a party at his tower and the place was swarming with guests. It should have been easy to go in, take a hostage and trade the hostage over for the beast. How was Ross to know that only freaks were in attendance?

Luckily for Ross, though, he had his subordinates combing the building to help take down the fliers. Obviously these 'Avengers' weren't really going to 'declare war' on him. He was a General in the American Army, a hero. The government wouldn't allow such a thing to happen, particularly when the general was doing his job of keeping the country, and even the world, safe from that monster.

But, if there was one thing that General Ross knew it was that image was everything. Somehow the 'Avengers' were public heroes and icons. Even the great Captain America was a part of them. It would look bad for him if the general public, and his superiors, found out that these so-called 'heroes' had 'declared war' on him. Image was everything.

This was part of the reason why Ross couldn't understand how a great hero like Captain America could even side with that thing. Obviously he must be misguided; he and Ross were on the same side, after all. They were both fighting for the freedom and safety of their great country, and to do that Ross had to take out America's greatest threat. As America's Captain, surely he could understand that, right?

With his arms stuffed full of the stupid Form, General Ross swept into his office with a great sigh. It took some time out of his schedule, but he was sure that he had taken down all of those things. He was just starting to feel good about himself when he turned fully towards his desk and saw his direct supervisor sitting in his chair.

"Sir," General Ross gulped. He dropped the Forms that were still in his hands, letting them flutter to the floor. He wet his lips nervously, eyes darting around the room. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

His boss stared at him sternly before pointing the remote to Ross's television on the wall and turning to the local news station.

_"-not much is known currently about how General Ross is responding to the Declaration of War from the Avengers and the army is refusing to comment. Sources say that the decorated general attacked a private party held at Avengers Tower in celebration of opening a new food shelter for the poor-"_ His boss clicked the television off, glaring at Ross. Ross spluttered, not believing what he was hearing.

"That's all a lie!" he protested. "There was nothing about 'food shelters' or anything like that going on at that party!"

"It doesn't really matter," his boss finally said, standing up and pushing away from the desk. "Stark Industry's CEO has released a statement saying that they were, and all of the paperwork is in order so it's really your word against theirs. But that's not what I'm here about. I'm here because you sent in a team to infiltrate and attack a private residence that you knew full well was filled with civilians. The only ones allowed in this country to do such a thing would be the regular police departments or the FBI and neither would attempt such a thing in the manner that you did!"

"But I-!"

"I'm not done, Ross. You will issue an official apology towards not only the Avengers and the people of New York but also toward Dr. Banner. You will wash your hands of this 'Hulk Buster Unit' and be done with it. Intelligence has decided that he's no longer a threat and will be left alone. Do I make myself clear?"

"But sir!" Ross protested. "You don't know how dangerous he is! Just one slip up-!"

"I said, do I make myself clear?" his boss said in a dangerously soft tone. Ross tensed and grit his teeth, but he knew when to give up.

"Yes, sir."

"Good," his boss said as he walked towards the door. Before he left, he had one thing left to say. "Oh, and Ross? When you issue your apology to the Avengers, I would suggest that you also offer your 'surrender' as well."


	13. Notification of Whereabouts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint Barton's not...lost, persé, but he would really appreciate it if someone could come pick him up. And not mention the brain trauma.

Clint looked around the cozy little town he found himself in, not for the first time cursing the fact that he didn't know as many languages as Natasha. Admittedly, she probably didn't know the native language here either, but Clint still felt woefully out of the loop. After being dropped off, quite literally, in a foreign country after a mission gone wrong, he was left with only a few alternatives. For sure he had to let the others know where he was. But how to do it? It would be simple enough to steal a phone to use, but Clint really didn't want to try and figure out how to use it if it worked differently than the phones he was used to.

That settled it. When he got back, he was going to train himself better. Maybe not necessarily in the physical arts, but he should damned well be better prepared than this. Of course, it was probably just an aftereffect of the 'treatment' that he had just gone through that was preventing him from accessing certain parts of his memory, but that was no excuse. If he admitted that they had messed with his mind to this extent, then he was going to find himself locked up with the shrink again, he just knew it.

After rummaging through his backpack that he had managed to escape with, Clint came across the perfect thing to let the others know where he was. And, thankfully, since it was a Form Clint could easily get away with the excuse that he just wanted to continue their new 'tradition' of using Forms to communicate with.

No one ever had to find out that he had temporarily forgotten how to use a cell phone. No one.

* * *

FORMAL COMMUNICATION

**NOTIFICATION OF WHEREABOUTS**

(For Official Use Only)

Post Card

Greetings from (Location of Sender) Iceland…I think! I have been here for (Period of Time) three weeks, and I should have written sooner, but (Implausible Excuse) I was captured by rogue agents, tortured, and almost brainwashed before I managed to escape by jumping from the plane I was on. I then spent about a day wandering around before I found a post office that I trust. The weather is (General Description of Climate) a little chilly, but the hot springs aren't so bad, and it is very (Unique Property of Sender's Location) Icelandic here. The locals are quite (Description of Indigenous Peoples) inconspicuous here, but still a little suspicious…mostly because I don't know their language, and the other day I ate a (Food or Insect) dish that I was able to make out was one of their traditional foods. Don't try it covered in (Powder or Liquid) I don't even know what. Basically, I am having a (Candid Statement) paranoid time, though I look forward to (Thing Missed From Home) being able to understand the language so that I know if my life is still threatened or not when/if I return.

(Sentiment) Please save me, your (Title) trapped friend, teammate and asset, (Name of Sender) Clint Barton.

* * *

When Phil Coulson first read through the Form that was dropped innocently on his desk, his first thought wasn't 'good, he's still alive,' 'thank god, I was worried' or even 'why didn't he contact the Avengers first to get him instead of sending a post card through the mail?' No, the only thing that could come to mind as he read and re-read Barton's post card was 'why is he in Iceland?' When they lost contact with Barton, he was at the time on a surveillance and espionage mission in Australia. How he managed to get all the way to Iceland was a mystery, and yet so Barton-esque.

There were a number of things that Coulson wanted to say to his now not-missing asset. Most of those things were rather unbecoming of an Agent of his stature and would involve serious lectures when Barton came back. There were other things that he would want to tell his friend as well. And, being Phil Coulson, Super Agent/Handler extraordinaire, he had written down a list.

What should probably be added to the list would be congratulations on quick thinking in bringing along a Form that would alert S.H.I.E.L.D. and others to his whereabouts. Obviously it was helpful of Barton to let them know not only his whereabouts (even if it is just the country and not anywhere more specific) but also a brief explanation of what had happened to him. But, this just led into a second question. If Barton could get out a message to let the others know what had happened to him, why did he use such a slow method? Frankly, a simple telephone call or an email would have been much quicker than international mail. With Barton's level of skill, it should have been easy enough to secure a phone line or computer access to let him send an encrypted email. If he had decided to contact Tony Stark first, he could have been rescued from Iceland within a matter of hours.

Then again, if he felt he could only safely communicate by international mail then Barton must have thought that the area he was currently in was too dangerous to use the 'normal' communication methods. Then again, it could have just been Barton being Barton.

There was also the possibility that something had happened to Barton during his 'almost brainwashing' sessions that inhibited him from using other means of communication. If so, then Coulson was going to have to schedule him in to see the psychiatrist again. And this time, he was going to make sure that the archer actually went to his sessions.

Perhaps even more important than any of those questions was the one that Coulson could only ask himself; how was he going to break the news to Romanoff? She had been understandably worried when her partner went missing on an assignment, no doubt reliving flashbacks to the Loki invasion. For Barton's safety, he wondered if it would not perhaps be best not to tell her where he was until after he was back in custody safely. Then again, she may turn on Coulson if she found out that he knew where her partner was for a while without telling her first. It was a delicate situation either way, and would take a great deal of tact to see through.

First thing was first, though, and that was that Coulson had a duty to inform not only Director Fury of where his missing agent went but also tell the Avengers that their missing teammate was not only alive but had decided to contact someone else about where he was first.

Coulson was not looking forward to that particular conversation.

But most importantly, Coulson had to wonder; why Iceland?


	14. Formal Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson has to go away for a while. Luckily, he has someone who will hopefully take good care of the Avengers until he can come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: OC alert. Hopefully he's not annoying. Also, starting to go a little AU with official cannon. Just a warning.

BUREAU OF COMMUNICATION (EST. 1860)

FORMAL INTRODUCTION (Form 88-33)

Replete With Social Niceties

To [X] My Friend [X] My Dearest [ ** _X_** ] The Venerable Avengers,

I wish to present to you my replacement while I work with a mobile team of amateurs Eric Jones, a competent agent by trade, a person whose pleasant work habits and irreproachable ability to not be phased by anything and follow the express order of Director Fury have emboldened me to bring the two of you together. I have mentioned your name as my most cherished assets. Like you, Eric Jones is living, which leads me to believe that you will find a great deal in common.

At a minimum, you share a mutual friend in myself, and if conversation grows dry, you are welcome to discuss the matter of my explicit orders to try to get along with him and not drive him away. If that proves fruitless, there's always everyone's favorite topic: my former Captain America cards (I'm still not sure why you won't let that die already; the Director's already replaced my old ones and gave me Lola). In the worst case, you can always fall back on a banal conversation about the weather. Or, even if friendship fails to develop, your professional pursuits may be aligned, and you might wish to consider employing him.

Understand that any care shown to him will be regarded as a personal favor to myself. That said, I beg a thousand apologies if my friend in some way reflects poorly on me. Off the record, he can be a bit of a person that does things by the book. In time, you will surely learn to overlook this shortcoming, and one day, you may not even notice it.

Eternally indebted to you,  
Agent Phil Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D.

Postscript—Entirely aside from the matter at hand, I send my highest regards and most respectful compliments. And send my regards to Eric Jones for me.

Formal Introduction Letter, Prepared By The B.O.C. Washington DC

* * *

Coulson somehow managed to enter the Avengers Tower, waltz into the main common room and leave his little note on the table, and then leave the Tower. All without being noticed by any of the occupants of said Tower.

…Tony was _seriously_ getting tired of the breaches in security. It was bad enough that not only did Ross somehow send in a group of his people to his tower a while ago, but Hammer Industries was even starting to make their move. True, it was a very sloppy move and poorly executed, but those Hammer spies should not have been able to make it into his tower without being noticed. It was a disgrace, as far as Tony was concerned. There were the obvious, and very good, reasons why he was paranoid about people getting in; they could be trying to steal his tech again, and that was just something that Tony found unforgivable.

In fact, he was pretty sure there was a special place in hell just for plagiarists and those who stole others ideas.

But then there were the other reasons why security needed to be beefed up for the Tower. The rest of the Avengers now called it home, and between Thor's inter-dimensional guests and brother, the people who were after Bruce, and the Assassin Twins' own little brand of paranoia, there really was no reason why so many people were getting into his tower unannounced. Tony had had talks with JARVIS, who seemed just as upset as his creator was about the break-ins, but there was only so much they could do. Finally, Tony had Clint and Natasha use their super kung-fu action ninja assassin skills to sneak in and discover weak spots in the security. If Tony knew what was wrong, he could work to fix it. And, so far, things seemed to be going 'okay' for them.

That is, until Agent 'Agent' Coulson decided to waltz right in and trample on any sort of good feeling that Tony had been feeling for his tower. Stalin and Legolas had tried to convince him that it was _Coulson_ , and therefore didn't matter because Coulson was like a freaking ninja himself. If anything, it only made the billionaire feel worse. That was formerly a Stark Industries tower, thank you very much. It should have been more than capable of keeping out even those pesky ninjas. But, no. Their very considerate, not-quite-dead _'handler'_ just had to trample all over his nice, safe and warm comfortable feelings of security.

It was truly a wonder that Tony even got any sleep at night. It really, really was.

But more than that, Agent Coulson decided to add insult to injury and tell them— _through a freaking note_ , Tony would like to point out—that not only was their handler, and the only person who could really handle the insanity known as the Avengers, leaving he was bringing in some random person that nobody knew about. Seriously, even Stalin and Katniss couldn't even dig any dirt up on the guy. Clint tried to tell them that it was because this 'Eric Jones' person was from a different department than he and Natasha, but that really didn't make Tony feel better. He worked off of knowing all of the variables. If he was missing a variable, then how was he supposed to make an adjustment? Even the world-class top assassins didn't know about this guy. And Tony was supposed to entrust their safety and wellbeing with this complete and total stranger?

It didn't matter that Coulson had apparently 'vetted' the guy. Tony didn't know him, so he didn't trust him. S.H.I.E.L.D. had to have known that this was a bad idea, but they went with it anyway. And where was their handler, and maybe sometimes friend, going during the interim? To go off and frolic with some _other_ team that wasn't the Avengers. Tony wasn't jealous. Even the rest of the team wasn't jealous. But seriously, they couldn't get someone else in to deal with some little newbie group?

"Oh come on," Steve told Tony. "It's not going to be that bad to have someone different around for a while. I'm sure they're just using Coulson to get this new group into shape, and then he'll be back with us again."

"Oh, sure, that's easy for you to say, Cap," Tony snapped at him. He refused to think that he looked anything less than a competent, mature adult. Certainly not the whiny, spoiled child that Natasha kept calling him. Traitor. He thought that she and Clint would have been on his side. "Both you and the new guy have a thing for following orders. That's all well and good for you, the soldier, but the rest of us prefer to think with our own minds. Take your groupthink and shove it."

Bruce rolled his eyes, barely looking up from the scientific journal that he just ordered and was finally getting the chance to read. "Do you have to bring up _1984_?"

"Yes!"

Thor frowned. "What does a date have to do with the topic at hand? Did something happen then?"

"It's a book, big guy," Clint answered. "Tony's just being melodramatic."

"Ah, yes," Thor nodded sagely. "I recognized the signs. Loki gets the same way whenever he tries to convince myself and my warrior friends back on Asgard that he's right and the rest of us are wrong. True, he was usually talking about how we shouldn't go off and fight on other worlds, but I think the same applies here, does it not?"

"Very astute observation," Natasha agreed. Tony glared at her.

"How are you and feather-brain over there not on my side? I thought you of all people would have been upset at some intruder coming into our home, especially if he's replacing Coulson."

Clint and Natasha shared looks, smiles on their faces. "We developed a system," Clint said. "This isn't the first time that S.H.I.E.L.D.'s given me or Tasha a new handler. Usually those times were because they thought we were all getting too 'attached', but we held out."

"Mostly because Coulson told us not to kill the new handler," Natasha put in. "Apparently, that wouldn't get us our old handler back."

"So what we'd do is we'd give the new guy a…trial period, you could say," Clint continued. "If the handler's competent, great. He may be useful. But, if he's an idiot and tries to get us killed, then we get to call the shots." The two assassins smirked sadistically at that. Bruce slowly lifted his line of sight from his scientific journal towards his two teammates and just as slowly lowered it back. He obviously wanted to stay out of that one, though The Other Guy seemed to agree with them on proper temporary handler care. Steve just shook his head and walked towards the elevator. A good workout seemed like just the thing right now. Thor, surprisingly, chuckled with an interested gleam in his eye. As an Asgardian warrior, and a prince, he could appreciate testing for one's true strength, particularly if they were going to be a leader of men.

Tony, on the other hand, thought that this just might not be a painful trial period. The ideas he was getting for 'tests' were endless…

The poor newbie didn't know what he was getting into.


	15. Unscheduled Impairment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Coulson has something very important to tell the Avengers--his dear Captain America cards were needlessly sacrificed in the line of duty.
> 
> Oh, and he's also alive. That might be important.

OFFICIAL NOTICE

  
**UNSCHEDULED IMPAIRMENT** (Form UW-77)

Statement:

To: (Name of Recipient) The Avengers From: (Name of Sender) Agent Phil Coulson

Please be aware that I have recently been forced to confront the sudden loss of (Valued Thing or Relationship) my Captain America cards. As a result, I have become (Present State of Affect) despondent and unable to (Everyday Activity) complete my duties as your handler to the best of my abilities. I apologize in advance for any (Unfortunate Side Effects) demoralization that may occur to which you may be subjected. Be assured that in light of past issues with (Regrettable Behavior) there are no past issues. Director Fury crossed a line when he destroyed my cards and traumatized the greatest hero this country has ever had (along with Tony Stark), I will make every effort to (Stated Goal) make Fury replace my cards with new ones and have asked (Person or Agency) Barton and Romanoff for (Intervention) help with my plans. While in the past, you may not have understood my (Feeling) ardent attachment for (What Is Gone) my Captain America cards, I hope you will share the burden of (Bad Thing) avenging my cards with me as I move though this (Description) difficult transition.

_Filing Date : REDACTED_

__The Cause of My Misfortune Is :  
Unknowable—Incomprehensible—Obvious  
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- **X**

__I Fear Loss of :  
 **Appetite**  
Income  
 **Balance**  
 **Direction**  
 **Restraint**  
Memory  
Libido  
Hair 

__I May Require :  
 **Forbearance**  
 **Tolerance**  
Forgiveness  
 **An Ambulance**  
 **Fresh Sea Air**  
Clean Sheets  
 **Painkillers**  
Cash 

__In Return I Can Humbly Offer :  
 **Eternal Gratitude**  
Some of the Money I Owe You  
Donation of a Kidney or Cornea 

_Special Requests :  
Thank You For Your Consideration_

_ By the way, I'm not dead. Thought I should let you know. _

* * *

After getting a warning from Barton and Romanoff that he was technically still considered 'dead' to the world at large, including the very people that he was supposed to be a handler to, Phil Coulson decided that he had to do something about it. Unfortunately, he was still being forced to stay at S.H.I.E.L.D. for 'observation' or something like that. Really, the reasons didn't matter. Director Fury had a job to do, and that included letting the world think that one of his top agents, his 'eye', was dead. This was of course to fool those who would take advantage of his death as well as take enemies unawares.

However, it also had the added consequence of making some of the people that Phil Coulson, somehow, considered to be the ones closest to him think that he was still dead. And this was unacceptable. Even worse than this, Director Fury destroyed Agent Coulson's prized Captain America cards to do so. Barton and Romanoff were thankfully the ones who let him know. If it was anyone else, he may have done something unfortunate, such as take out his anger on them. With Barton and Romanoff, though, Coulson knew that they had his best interests at heart. Even more than being his assets, they were his friends. It was why he was so pleased when he found out that they had an idea to help him get his revenge against the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.

First step, of course, was to let the Avengers know that not only was he alive, but that it was also Fury's fault that they thought he was dead for so long. It was Coulson's idea in the first place to make them think he was dead; they needed something to rally around, to 'avenge'. There was no excuse for why it took him this long to let their best team know that their handler was still alive. It was up to Coulson to take matters into his own hands. He was sure that the others would have good ideas for revenge.

First, though, the Avengers would have to forgive him for letting them know his fate through a Form.

* * *

Tony stared at the note. He, Steve, Bruce and Thor were gathered in the Tower and had just found the 'Form' that had been sent through the mail for them. According to JARVIS, they had been sitting there, staring at the Form, for fifteen minutes now. The arm of the couch that Steve was sitting next to had crumbled under his clenched fist. It was just as well. Tony had been begging Pepper to let him get new couches for a month now. The captain's mouth was tight with controlled anger and indignation. Tony understood that. He also didn't like being played with to fit the machinations of others. He was not a toy, and he did not appreciate being lied to.

Enough people had lied to Tony throughout his life. He hated that it was still happening even into his adult life.

Thor, for his part, just seemed confused but also relieved. He was confused that someone would convince their own people that someone close to them was dead. What was the point to it? Where was the honor? There was no need for such petty tricks. If they were true warriors then they should have been able to fight regardless. On the other hand, even Thor had to admit that Loki had gotten to them at that time. Perhaps the only way to bring everyone together for a common goal was to give them something to fight for. Then there was the fact that he was quite relieved that his brother's crimes were not as bad as he feared. Yes, his brother had murdered many in cold blood, but at least this was one less death to play on his conscious. And, it had to be said, the Son of Coul managed to protect Jane Foster throughout the whole ordeal. He would forever owe the agent a great debt.

Bruce, in contrast with the rest of the room, seemed almost giddy. He hadn't been that close with Coulson before his (apparent) 'death' but he was still glad that the agent wasn't actually dead. Because of his past with The Other Guy, Bruce was always sensitive to senseless death; to find out that someone didn't end up dying needlessly and in a fit of violence was a breath of fresh air.

Tony, unsurprisingly, was the first to break the silence. "So. Does anyone have any objections to having me plan out the revenge?"

"Nope."

"None."

"Can't say that I do."

"Good." Tony narrowed his eyes at the Form. One; it had to be the greatest thing since Einstein's Theory of Relativity—or, in laymen's terms, sliced bread. Two; the Form was giving Tony the perfect idea for a revenge plot that included copious amounts of passive-aggressiveness as well as continued uses of these 'Forms'…

Oh yes…he had a feeling they would come in handy…


	16. Sale Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An important item is now available for sale!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while since I updated this. I'm going to work some more to move more of the chapters I already have on Fanfiction over to here, so look forward to them soon-ish!

Steve Rogers was a man who liked to read the newspaper. It was one of the few things from his era that was still around today, relatively intact, and it provided other benefits as well. Steve could keep up with the news and current events better this way than by trying to figure out how to work Tony’s ridiculously complicated television system. They had television back in the forties, it’s true, but they were always very expensive and only the very rich would have had one. Steve was used to going to movie theaters to get his ‘live-action news’, and the prospect of trying to learn about something with so many buttons and ‘waves’ was a little disconcerting. He was still trying to learn how to differentiate between microwaves, gamma rays, and UV rays. Back in the forties, Steve didn’t need to learn about those kinds of things. He was focused on getting enough food to eat, paying the rent on his apartment and trying to be of some help to his country. There wasn’t much of a need to learn anything fancier than how to do basic math.

But back to newspapers.

Newspapers didn’t just tell the news; they also talked about sports (Steve was so upset that he missed 1947…), business, and other things as well. Steve liked to take his time in the mornings after his workouts and read through the paper carefully and thoroughly before breakfast. That was another thing that still didn’t make sense to him. Steve was used to breakfast being the standard eggs, bacon, and toast—and, if you were really lucky and had the time, waffles or pancakes. Today, though, there were many other options and suddenly the breakfast that Steve was used to was now ‘unhealthy’. To avoid the usual confrontations, he decided to just have dinner at one of the little cafés around the corner. He would order his usual, sit down for a while and read his paper at his own pace.  


It was while he was reading the personal ads that Steve saw it. At first he just skimmed by it, shaking his head slightly. He was amazed at what some people would try to buy or sell. It was only after reading an advertisement for a replica Chitauri scepter (...what?) that he frowned and looked back. It took a moment to really let the words sink into his mind. When they did, Steve stood up quickly and walked over to the front desk and asked to borrow their phone.  


On further reflection, Steve figures that he should have noticed earlier. The fact that the whole ad was written as a Form should have been a dead giveaway.  


“Oh good, Tony; have you read the paper yet? I think you’re going to want to…”

* * *

**Public Announcement**  


 

**SALE NOTICE (Form 1201)**  


  
**Attention:**  


****  
_**Calling All Neighbors, Friends & Speculators!** _

I am pleased to announce the sale of my (Adjective)  immovable (Item) blacksmithing tool. It is an outstanding specimen of a (Item Category) magical nature that has served me well both as a (Primary Usage) weapon and (Additional Usage) doorstopper. I expect it to provide you with years of [ _ **Occasional**_ /Ongoing/Reliable] service. It is definitely worth keeping: In fact, the only reason that I am selling it is because (Plausible Excuse For Sale) my brother has left it into my care often enough that I believe it is up to me to dispose of the item. An item of this quality could easily fetch (Exaggerated Price) it has no price that you mortals could even hope to capture or equal in worth fairly, but I am selling it for the (Salesman’s Adjective) …purple? I am unsure what is to go here price of (Tell It Like It Is) $5. This [Choose One] _**is** _/is not negotiable, though I might consider trading the item for a used (Desirable Good)__ infinity stone.  


_Filing Date : REDACTED_  


_WARRANTY_  


_I Can Assure You That:_  
_**[X]** It Was Like That When I Bought It._  
_[] You Will Barely Notice The Scratches._  
_**[X]** The Item In Question Was Not Stolen. ___  
_**[X]** I Am Not A Crook._  
_(In the margins, the mysterious salesperson wrote: Caution; You will have to be extremely worthy to be able to move the item in question. There will be a test.)_  
_CONDITION_  
_Pristine—Rusty—Broken_  
_X-X-X- **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X_  


_ILLUSTRATION_  
(Not To Scale)  


_Front : REDACTED_  
_Side : REDACTED_  
_Top : REDACTED_  
_Suggested Usage : REDACTED_  


_FINE PRINT_  


_While I can assure you that the statements made in this document have not been knowingly falsified, the claims made within cannot be backed up. I have not actually used the item for its intended purpose in over five years. All sales are absolutely final—I offer no satisfaction guarantee. Caveat Emptor!_  


_(The ad was signed as being offered by a Mr. Roy Lukas)_   


* * *

Loki was also one to enjoy a quiet breakfast. It may have been a little presumptuous of him to eat out in the open in the very city that his brother and the rest of his brother’s little friends lived in, but Loki was still feeling a little hemmed in from being in jail for so long. He deserved a little fresh air, thank you. Loki glanced around and sniffed derisively. Well, that is if you could even _call_ this atmosphere ‘fresh’.  


He was just spreading cream cheese on a freshly baked bagel when someone quite literally stormed over and took the seat opposite him. Loki didn’t bother to look up. It was already painfully obvious who the other person was. Acknowledging him in any form first would have been going against Loki’s aesthetics. Plus, it was endlessly amusing letting his brother stew for a bit.  


“Do you enjoy this?” Thor finally asked when he realized Loki wasn’t going to say anything first. Loki looked up with a mild expression on his face, his smile slight and with a slight curvature to his eyebrows. The perfect feint of innocence, if one didn’t know that they were talking with the Trickster God himself.  


“Enjoy what?” Loki couldn’t help asking. He gestured to his breakfast before him. “What these Midgardians attempt to pass off as a suitable morning meal? It is alright, but not quite up to my standards. Still, it will do.”  


Thor slammed his hand on the table. By some miracle, it didn’t break instantly although it creaked worryingly. “That is not to which I was referring to, and you know it!” Thor took a moment to calm himself and Loki took a moment to eat his bagel. It wasn’t quite up to the standards of ‘food of the gods’, but it was quite close. “I am talking about your… _habit_ …of letting me think you are dead, only to prove me wrong in the most unexpected of manners. First, you try to take over Midgard. Now, you try to sell Mjolnir!”  


Despite himself, Loki was rather impressed. He didn’t think his brother would figure out his plans this quickly. He had only put up the advertisement that morning. Thor glared at him, probably guessing what it was that his brother was thinking. Despite what he liked to say, Thor had a disturbing gift for understanding what was on Loki’s mind most of the time. It was unnerving, to say the least. Loki kept his smile the same and let his brother continue on. “I do not even know how you expect to sell Mjolnir if you can’t even pick it up yourself.”  


Loki’s tone turned dry. “Oh, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard.” He wiped the edges of his mouth and drank a sip of water from his refreshment glass. Despite the setting, Loki was still a prince—and he definitely had the manners of a prince, unlike a certain someone before him. “I would merely need to take all interested parties to wherever it is that you’ve decided to just leave Mjolnir lying around in the open and then wait until someone can pick it up.”  


Thor’s face turned red. “Arrogance!” he snapped. “This is precisely why you cannot pick my hammer up yourself, brother.” Loki’s expression turned dark. His brother always had a habit of ruining whatever appetite he had. “I can understand that you… _hate_ me, despite my feelings for you. But must you really take your petty feud out on Mjolnir, as well?”  


Loki’s brow furrowed in confusion, though that was the only outward sign that he gave. “How do you mean?”  


“Five dollars!” Thor exploded suddenly. “You _dare_ attempt to sell Mjolnir for _five dollars_?” Loki snorted. So that’s what this was about.  


“If you had bothered to read the advertisement properly,” Loki admonished, “you would have seen that I originally declared your precious hammer to be priceless. Five dollars merely seemed like a suitable price to get your hammer off my hands.”  


“But you don’t even _have_ Mjolnir,” Thor protested.  


Loki shrugged. Details. The end result was still the same, though. He just preferred this method of ruffling his perfect brother’s feathers. Loki reached across the table to offer Thor one of the baked goods offered on the table. “Bagel?” Thor sighed, but reached for one anyway. It was the closest that they were going to get to a truce.  


“I knew I should have never told you about those Forms.”


	17. Agent Jones, I Presume?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers get a new handler while Coulson's away for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a Form, and featuring an OC. Hope you don't hate this chapter too much. He was made around the time Agents of Shield premiered, so was my way of explaining Coulson's 'absence.' Obviously, this whole fic is now AU, so that's out the door, but I still like him. But don't worry, Jones won't be around often. Also, references. References are fun. Have fun spotting the five anime/manga/other references I made!
> 
> But no Doctor Who. Just no. Just ignore the time travel part, that's really just for me.

Eric Jones had been briefed extensively on the Avengers Initiative even before he became their temporary handler. Quite a few Agents abroad had to be. Something as big and all-powerful as a team of literal superheroes could put their own projects at risk. And, it would be very dangerous if some of Jones’ own ‘assets’ were to catch wind of the team.

Particularly a certain asset in Osaka, Japan. Luckily, some this assets own assets could keep her unaware.

So, when Eric Jones found himself settled with the Avengers, he wasn’t entirely unprepared. His first meeting with the team was on their terms at their tower. He expected this, and arrived precisely on time. He believed in arriving precisely on time. If you were to meet at a certain time, then no matter what you meet at that time. If you were too early then you weren’t giving the other side enough time to prepare, which was rude. If you were too late, then you were saying that your time mattered more than theirs, which was also rude. You could say that it was part of his aesthetics.

After being directed by the local AI to the correct floor Jones waited patiently in the ‘common’ room for the team to arrive. After five minutes passed without meeting anyone he was finally ready to ask the AI where everyone was. If he could make the effort to drive from across the city and arrive for the meeting on time, how difficult was it for the team to show up on time? They lived in the building in question, for one.

“Excuse me; your name is…JARVIS, was it?” Jones asked the AI.

_“It is, Agent Jones. Did you need anything?”_

“Can you tell me the location of the Avengers?”

_“They are currently across town in SoHo fighting what appears to be an army of mutant amphibians that have come from the sewers. From my calculations, they should be finishing up and arriving back at the Tower in twenty minutes.”_

Jones frowned thoughtfully. “I see. Thank you, JARVIS.” Well. If they were saving the city, then there was nothing to be done. He would just have to wait. Briefly, he wondered why he hadn’t been told about the invasion from the sewers. Surely he would have at least heard about it on the radio during the drive over… Well, it didn’t really matter anymore. Jones had a flash of insight and addressed JARVIS once more. “JARVIS, do you know if Dr. Banner has any spare clothing with the team?”

_“I believe Dr. Banner has already run through the spare clothing available on the team’s Quinjet, excepting a pair of pants.”_

Jones expected something like this. It was always better to be prepared, but there were some emergencies that you couldn’t prepare for. “It would probably be best to bring up a set of clothing for him then. Do you know if there’s any way to bring it up automatically?” Jones knew that the team must already be wary towards him. Personal boundaries existed for a reason, and Jones hadn’t yet earned the right to cross them. Even if he had, he would still be loathed to enter someone’s personal rooms without their permission.

_“I have already dispatched the robots to retrieve Dr. Banner’s extra clothing. If you would like to sit down and wait for the team to arrive, Agent Jones, you are more than welcome to.”_

“No, thank you. I prefer to stand.” First impressions were important. After about five minutes, the automatic doors to the elevator opened and a strange robot with a long, reaching arm wheeled out carrying a bundle of clothing, including new shoes. Jones took the bundle from the robot and set it on the coffee table. The robot chirped and wheeled back into the elevator before disappearing from sight.

Jones didn’t have to wait too much longer before he heard the engines of the Quinjet approach. Leading the way were two men who flew towards the door that led to the outdoor patio. One of these men could only be Iron Man, AKA Tony Stark. The other was big and blond and clearly, from what Jones had read of their files, Thor the Asgaridan. The two men approached the door to the inside, laughing and joking with one another while Iron Man’s suit was taken apart and stored in places unknown. They stopped midway through the door when they saw that Jones was waiting for them.

“JARVIS, security breach!” Stark snapped at the computer. He pointed a finger childishly in Jones’ direction.

_“Actually, sir, this is Agent Jones. I tried to tell you that he had arrived but you said to not distract you while you were fighting.”_

Stark sighed, frustrated. Thor approached Jones cautiously, looking him up and down. Jones stood still, letting his temporary new asset gauge him. From above, Jones could hear the Quinjet finally land.

“You are to be our new liaison?” Thor asked, looking at him skeptically. That was fine with Jones. He preferred to be underestimated.

“Yes, I am. I’m Agent Jones; a pleasure.” Stark by this point was walking circles around Jones. The rest of the team appeared through the elevators, wary looks on their faces at seeing a person they didn’t know in their Tower. “Until Agent Coulson returns from his new…mission, I will be your handler.”

“I don’t like it,” Stark announced suddenly. “We work fine on our own. I don’t see how we could need your ‘services’.”

“Tony,” Captain Rogers scolded, walking over to shake hands and introduce himself with Jones. “Don’t you think we should at least let Agent Jones do his job?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t like this,” Stark said, narrowing his eyes at Jones. “We don’t know anything about this guy. Hell, even Katniss and Stalin weren’t able to find anything on him. Have I told you my opinion on having all the necessary information to make informed decisions? I’m sure I must have mentioned it once.”

“More than once, actually.” Agent Romanoff slipped over to the couches, looking as innocent and non-threatening as could be. Jones wasn’t fooled a bit. He’d heard of her talents at interrogation and subterfuge and knew that she was the best of the best. If she wanted him to underestimate her, then she would have to do better than that. Agent Barton crossed his arms and leaned against the side wall, watching over the scene before him. As for Dr. Banner, the good scientist shuffled over to his new set of clothes and began to subtly and quietly put them on.

“I understand that you are suspicious of me,” Jones stated clearly. “Unfortunately, I cannot give you any details about my previous experience as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. My case files are confidential, and for good reason. The most I can do is say that I’m exceptionally qualified, and let you test my abilities as a handler yourself.”

“You wish to challenge us?” Thor boomed in a deep voice. He tilted his head as a teasing smile flitted onto his face. “Or would you have us challenge you instead?”

Agent Jones shrugged, nonplussed. “Whichever you prefer, I suppose. My orders were to make sure that you were ‘well’ enough to do your duties. If testing me will make things go more smoothly, then I will consent.”

Thor grinned widely. “You may wish you hadn’t proclaimed such bold things.”

“Yeah, that’s nice and all,” Stark interrupted before Jones would have had the chance to say anything. “But what I want to know is why Stalin and Male Katniss over there haven’t heard of you. Even JARVIS couldn’t find anything about you in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s systems.”

Jones stood still, body loose and calm. He turned his steady gaze at his fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents for a moment before looking back. “It’s not really that surprising. There are a lot of projects that our agency works on that only a few people know about. To maximize security, there are many different servers in many different places, and only one person knows about all of them—Director Fury. This of course includes agents as well as information.”

Agents Romanoff and Barton didn’t seem surprised by this news, but the others had varying looks of surprise and discomfort. Stark scowled. “So, what you’re saying is that the only people who can really back up your story are the guy you just replaced, whose God knows where right now, and the guy ordering us to let you be here. Wow. I feel safe, I don’t know about the rest of you.”

“I assure you, after dealing with moody Japanese teenagers I believe I can handle your team efficiently.”

Blank looks met Jones’ statement. Agent Barton, Stark and Thor appeared to take offence to his statement, though Agent Romanoff and Dr. Banner looked at him with warily and with consideration. Captain Rogers, on the other hand, seemed troubled.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. had you watching over children?” Jones shuffled on his feet slightly. He was uncomfortable with sharing top secret information, especially about his own assets, but knew that he would have to give the team something for them to trust him. As long as he didn’t expose any personal identities and kept things vague, there shouldn’t be a problem.

“Yes. S.H.I.E.L.D. has agents all over the world looking into potential future assets, both for our own interests and to protect theirs.”

Dr. Banner stepped forward for the first time, still eyeing Agent Jones warily. “Let’s say we believe you. Let’s say that we believe that you and S.H.I.E.L.D. really do want what’s best for these kids.” The look he gave Jones was tinged green. It looked like Jones would have to explain that he’s had little to no actual contact with his assets. Well, except the ones that were from the parallel time stream in the past. That one would be harder to explain. “Even if that’s true, how does watching after teenagers qualify you to really be our handler?” Dr. Banner paused and chuckled humorlessly. “I can understand that people think we may act like adolescents, but other than that I’m afraid I’m unsure of your qualifications.”

Jones took in a deep breath. He knew that Agents Romanoff and Barton were staring at him intensely. How much could he really give away without compromising his own projects? Would generalities really work here? Probably not. Unfortunately, he had dozens of open case files right now. Anything he said could potentially end up messing up what progress he had made already. Slowly, he released his held breath.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Jones said cautiously. “All I can really say is that the most interference that I’ve had in my assets lives is providing future job options while staying as anonymous as I can.” He leveled an even stare at Dr. Banner. “I’m not doing anything to their lives that they aren’t already doing themselves. In fact, that’s partly why I accepted this temporary job position; my assets are training themselves.”

It wasn’t surprising when Stark spoke up next. “That still doesn’t answer the question about your qualifications, you know.” Stark sent a smirk over to Thor, who was still eyeing Jones like an opponent that wasn’t really worth fighting yet. “Like Point-Break over here. Do you really think you can ‘handle’ a god, much less the rest of us?”

Agent Jones stared evenly at Stark’s challenging face. “You don’t really think that he’s the first god I’ve met, do you?” Surprisingly, it was easy enough to generalize the statement. A few of his ‘assets’ weren’t really properly classified as ‘deities’ of any kind, but a fair few had abilities that were hard to explain any other way.

Besides, the looks that the team was giving him now were priceless. Agent Jones would have sworn that even the AI was speechless. Jones remembered a piece of advice given to him by Coulson, right before he left for his new mission. The Avengers could be hard-headed, stubborn to a fault, and dead-set in their ways. It would take some heavy handed means to get them to really respect him, and if Jones had to he would push. “This is not meant as a criticism of any kind, Captain Rogers,” he directed next, “but I have also met a man who has your durability and strength, but without having to go through any sort of operations. He is definitely not suitable for S.H.I.E.L.D., though, as he also comes with anger issues that could rival the Hu—the ‘Other Guy’.” Jones had to remember that Dr. Banner didn’t like his alter ego’s other name. “I think his favorite method of attack is throwing street signs, or vending machines.”

Feeling that enough had been said, and that he’d given the group more than enough to think on, Agent Jones made his way towards the elevator with promises to be back soon with a mission. Checking the time on his watch, Jones noted pleasantly that he should be able to get back in time for Agent Carlos Ramon’s scheduled check-in reports. They were always coded in radio broadcasts from some small town in the desert and most intriguing. That, and the radio broadcasts had to be heard to be believed.


	18. Death Notice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, the Forms have consequences. Particularly if they're not used correctly.

As far as battles went, the last one that they had went pretty well. After fighting against this latest group of villains—this time dressed in various colorful body armors—the team decided to take a break and relax at a local bar. Honestly, Bruce wasn’t quite sure where they were at the moment. He thought he caught a few snippets of conversation in what sounded like German, but the signs outside appeared to be in Dutch. His best guess was that when one of the people they were fighting tried to attack Thor with one of their strange, modified giant robotic weapons some kind of singularity was created. Honestly, Bruce was just tired at this point. He would go over the readings that Tony took later. For now, though, he was going to relax.

The bar was filled with just enough people to keep up a nice, steady chatter in the background without being too crowded. The lady behind the counter smiled at them and asked what drinks they would like in French. Tony smirked tiredly and replied back smoothly for the strongest drink they had. Natasha requested vodka while Clint sat back to survey the bar. He grunted out his order, too tired for any attempt at politeness. Thor followed Tony’s example and also asked for the strongest drink they had. Bruce decided that it would be best if at least one person was sober and requested for juice of any kind. The woman at the bar gave him a look but didn’t say anything. Bruce really didn’t want to think about what would happen if the Hulk came out while he was drunk.

Steve, on the other hand, stared at the woman with wide, owlish eyes. He stuttered for a moment, declining a drink. The woman smiled and giggled at him before walking away.

“Wow. You should really work on your French, Spangles.” Steve glared balefully at Tony, hunching his large frame over the tiny bar.

“I only picked up a few phrases during the war, Tony,” he defended. Natasha patted his shoulder gently.

“She laughed because you used a few out of date words. Don’t worry about it.”

Thor shook his head. “I don’t understand how you Midgardians can stand to have so many different languages. On Asgard, we use the All-Tongue and it works for us just fine. How can you even communicate with one another?” He sounded genuinely curious.

Bruce chuckled lightly as their drinks came. “It takes a lot of learning for some, depending on how young you start to learn. It’s just like learning a new skill; it takes time, effort, and lots of practice.” In Bruce’s case, being on the run for so long in various new and foreign countries helped to kick-start his ability to learn new languages. No need to get depressing, though.

It looked like Thor had more questions but Bruce’s phone started ringing. Natasha, in a surprisingly good mood for some reason, decided to be the one to answer his questions while Bruce took his call. He was a little surprised that his phone was still working, and that it was getting such a good signal after traveling through that portal earlier. Tony had had to be the one to call in to their new handler, Agent Jones, and let him know about this situation with the newly vanquished group since JARVIS could always be counted on for good reception. As Tony had put it, the new group, besides being organized, had some kind of power that could only be described as ‘mighty morphin’. Personally, Bruce thought it might have been the slight concussion he had suffered from after a good solid hit from the person in the red suit. Agent Jones hadn’t been too thrilled, especially since the Avengers had disappeared like that without any notice.

Bruce fiddled around with his new phone, finally figuring out how to open it. He was surprised that it was Pepper on the other end, sounding very, very upset.

_“Is it true? Bruce, tell me the truth!”_

“Is what true? Pepper, you’re not making any sense.” Bruce brought a hand up to cover his other ear. It was hard to make out what she was saying with the noise in the bar, and she didn’t sound that put together either. He looked over at Tony, who frowned at him. Bruce shrugged helplessly. Why did Pepper call him instead of her boyfriend? Not that Bruce didn’t mind her calling. Pepper was one of the few people who accepted him without hesitation. In fact, he would even go so far as to say that they were friends. Both had their own troubles with Tony, who was definitely a handful. But Pepper sounded like she was in tears. That could only mean that there was something seriously wrong right now—so why didn’t she call Tony?

Speaking of which, Tony leaned over, holding his hand out for the phone expectantly. The other Avengers watched the scene curiously, though they seemed to sense that something was wrong. Bruce was tempted to hand the phone over, but if Pepper chose to call him instead then it must have been about something she couldn’t talk to Tony about. So, Bruce kept the phone to himself and tried to calm down his friend over the phone. All he really caught was the word Tony through the noise at the bar.

“Wait, sorry Pepper; can you repeat that? I’m in a bar right now, I can’t hear you.”

 _"What do you mean you're at a bar?!"_ Bruce pulled the phone away from his ear. He was pretty sure the others could hear her screech just as clearly as he could. 

“Well, we finished fighting the armored group a little while ago and there wasn’t enough room on the S.H.I.E.L.D. transport ship for us, too, so Tony decided-”

 _“Wait, what do you mean ‘Tony decided’? Tony’s alive?”_ It hurt Bruce’s heart to hear Pepper’s voice break like that. The aghast look on his face must have alerted Tony that something was definitely wrong. Tony stormed away from the bar and demanded the phone.

“Of course he’s alive! He’s—look, he’s right here, I’m going to give the phone to him, alright?” Quickly, Bruce handed the phone to a very concerned looking Tony Stark, who grabbed it out of his hand as soon as it was offered.

“Pepper? Honey? What’s wrong? What’s this about me being dead?”

Bruce walked back to the bar, uncomfortable overhearing what was clearly an intimate and important conversation. Once at the bar the other four turned to him, wanting answers.

“What was that about?” Clint asked, jerking his thumb towards Tony who had started pacing near the doorway. “Why’d Tony’s girl call you?”

Bruce was just as bewildered as the others. “I’m not sure, really,” he said. “She sounded really upset, though, and seemed to think that Tony was dead for some reason.” That took the group aback. They looked back over at Tony just as he came back to the bar wearing a tight look on his face.

“—yeah, don’t worry. I’ll be home soon, just let me finish things up here and I’ll head back. Love you, Pep.” He hung up Bruce’s phone right before slamming his fist onto the hard wood of the bar. Despite himself, Bruce flinched slightly at the noise. He carefully took his phone back when it was offered to him.

“What was that about?” Steve asked, eyeing his teammate warily. Bruce didn’t blame him. Tony was giving off murderous vibes that made it seem like he was about to start throwing punches. The team’s resident assassins shared a look as they adjusted their seating, casually turning towards Tony in case they needed to restrain him.

Tony took a deep breath and grabbed his mug that was still on the bar. He swallowed the rest in three gulps and slammed the mug on the bar as well. “Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. sent a Form to Pepper.”

Thor frowned. “I do not understand. Doesn’t Miss Potts get sent forms all the time?”

“It wasn’t just a form. It was one of _The_ Forms.” Tony took another steadying breath before continuing on. “They just told her that I was dead. Through a Form. Pepper read it to me, and we think that it was supposed to be from that time with the Battle of Manhattan. Either way, I really need to kick someone’s ass.” He glanced over at the Natasha and Clint. 

“I don’t suppose you could find out whose ass I’m going to be kicking?”

Natasha narrowed her eyes. “Consider it done.”

* * *

FORMAL NOTICE

_Dear Bereaved,_

_We regret to inform you that (Name of Deceased) Tony Stark has departed this dark world and gone on to be with his Maker. He died (Manner of Death) protecting the world against hostile forces trying to invade and cause havoc on (Date of Death) REDACTED. We thank you for his brave service to (Deceased’s State of Origin) in this case, S.H.I.E.L.D._

_May our Maker provide you with a new (Role In Family) boyfriend even more (Superlative) Metallic than the first._

_Respectfully,(Name of Sender) S.H.I.E.L.D. Clerk #4._

_CAUSE OF DEATH_  
[] Accident  
[ _ **X**_ ] Hubris  
[ _ **X**_ ] Battle  
[ _ **X**_ ] Will of God  
[ _ **X**_ ] Classified (written next to this is the short note _‘As Seen On TV!’_ )  
[] Premature Autopsy

* * *

S.H.I.E.L.D. file clerk #4 walked defiantly towards his boss’s office, having been called in because someone had a complaint. It was probably about one of the Forms he’d had to fill out. In his defense, some of them were hilarious. He figured, since they probably weren’t going to be read by anyone anyway, then he might as well have some fun.

Besides, if he was only going to be known by ‘File Clerk #4’ instead of his actual name, then he deserved to have a little fun. What was the harm, anyways?

He knocked on the door to his boss’s office and was let in immediately. His boss sat behind her desk, looking very troubled and just the tiniest bit annoyed with him. She wasn’t alone, however. Agents Romanoff and Barton were standing on either side of her while the consultant Tony freaking Stark stood by the side, glaring at him as if he personally killed Stark’s puppy.

Clerk #4 took his seat. “So, what’s this about, ma’am?”

His boss glared at him. “It’s come to my attention that you sent out a death notice recently?”

He shrugged. “I’ve sent out a lot. We’re finally starting to work through the backlog. Why?”

“Well, for one, you sent my girlfriend a Form saying that I’m dead,” Stark snapped. “And in case you haven’t noticed, _I’m not dead!_ ”

Clerk #4 blinked. He flipped through his notes that he had with him and pointed at one of the names on the list. “It says right here that you died. Something about the ‘battle of Manhattan’ or something.”

Stark blinked wildly before turning on his own teammates. “You all just declared me _dead_ without even waiting to see if I’d come back? And why didn’t you mark me off the list when you _knew_ that I was still alive?”

Agent Barton raised an eyebrow. “I was still recovering from being mind-controlled. Plus, it’s not like anyone would have listened to me back then. I was still ‘the traitor’, remember?”

“Alright, fair point. Stalin, what’s your excuse?”

Agent Romanoff stared blankly at Stark for a moment. “I was in the middle of ‘clean up’. And, it’s not my job to monitor these things. You should really take it up with Fury later.”  


Clerk #4 was just getting up to leave, since it didn’t seem like he was needed anymore, when his boss snapped at him to sit down again. That, unfortunately, brought him back to the Avengers’ attention. He wilted under the force of the glares that he received.

“So why did you send this thing when it’s pretty obvious that I’m still alive?” Stark demanded.

Clerk #4 rolled his eyes. “Duh. It’s my job to fill out the forms. I get yelled at if I don’t.”

Agent Romanoff narrowed her eyes dangerously. Suddenly, Clerk #4 felt like his life was in danger. “I’ve seen the Form you were supposed to fill out. You added something extra—‘As Seen On TV’? Why?”

Again, Clerk #4 shrugged. “It gets boring just filling out the same thing over and over again, you know?”

Afterwards, Clerk #4 received Form 22388, the Universal Employment Termination Form. Before being reassigned to a different department, he was ordered to undergo mandatory practice training with Agents Romanoff and Barton. (No longer) Clerk #4 regretted signing up with S.H.I.E.L.D.


	19. Belated Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it's kind of hard to re-open lines of communication with people you've met exactly once. Luckily, there's a Form for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one was written before the Antman movies, so, yeah, expect things to be a little different from canon. On the whole, expect these Forms to be slightly AU, but I'll try to keep them as close to the source material as I can. Not to date this or anything (though that's pretty much exactly what I'm doing), this particular chapter was written shortly after the events of Captain America: Winter Soldier. FYI
> 
> Also, ALL of the nostalgia fighting!

It wasn’t very often that Steve saw the Great Tony Stark so frantic or nervous. In fact, he can’t really remember a time when he ever saw the billionaire like that. Even when they were battling the Chitauri in Manhattan, or even facing off against that one professor who had created genetically engineered little girls with strange powers and strength to do his bidding in taking over the tri-state area, Steve had never seen Tony lose his bravado. If Tony ever felt nervous he would usually show it with more jokes, inappropriate humor, or something similar. Sometimes he would even act irrationally and try to sacrifice his own life to save the others. For once, Steve wasn’t quite sure if he liked that Stark finally listened to him about something.

The way Tony was acting, however, was completely different. He was actually _showing_ that he was nervous.

Steve was currently the only one left in the tower with him. With the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D., he didn’t really have much of a job to do anymore. He still volunteered his time when he could, helping out the fire department and with the local food shelter for the poor the Avengers Team had sponsored, but there were times when he could do no more for the day. As for the rest of the Avengers, Clint and Natasha were currently ‘looking for work’, whatever that meant. Thor was visiting Jane Foster and her group in some remote region, and Dr. Banner was at his own lab working on his projects. As the only other person in the tower, that left it up to Steve to try and help out his friend.

“Is there anything bothering you, Stark?” Tony jumped about a foot in the air, startled. He glanced at Steve briefly before waving him off.

“Nothing you could help with, Spangles,” he replied dismissively. “I have a problem that needs to be solved with intellect, not muscle mass. But hey, I’ll call you when I need to move furniture and don’t have my suit with me, okay?”

Steve frowned. Despite their usual banter, he didn’t like being told that he was in essence ‘stupid.’ Maybe he wouldn’t have been able to help with some kind of scientific formula like Dr. Banner could have, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t help his friend with a problem. And clearly, whatever was bothering Tony wasn’t something that he could solve with Science. Perhaps that was why he seemed so agitated, now that Steve thought about it.

He tracked Tony’s movements around the tower, watching as the billionaire tweaked with a few odds and ends littered around the place, adjusting a few pictures, and seeming to argue with himself. Finally Steve had had enough.

“Tony,” he said, “I don’t know what’s bothering you but talking about it will help. I may not be as ‘smart’ as you, but I can still help out a friend—at least listen to the problem. Maybe then you’ll think of something.”

Tony huffed before flopping himself onto the couch. “Usually it’s Bruce that listens to me when I’m like this.” Steve nodded in agreement. Everyone knew that Dr. Banner had basically become Tony’s psychiatrist, even if he didn’t have a degree. Apparently, the scientist mostly just slept through their ‘sessions.’

“I’ll try my best to be like Dr. Banner. Without falling asleep.”

“Yeah, that would help.” Tony stared at the ceiling for a moment, collecting his thoughts. Finally he came out and said something Steve definitely wasn’t expecting. “So, I met someone.”

Steve choked on air. He really wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Suddenly, helping his friend didn’t seem like such a good idea, especially if Tony was potentially cheating on Pepper. But no, that couldn’t be right. Anyone could see that the two loved each other deeply. Steve must have been overreacting, coming to the wrong conclusion. That had to be it.

“I-I see. And does Pepper know…?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course she does. She was standing right next to me.”

“Oh.” This conversation suddenly seemed like a really, really bad idea. But, Steve had offered his help and he wasn’t going to pull away just because he was uncomfortable. “So, you met someone. I don’t see what the problem is…”

“Well, Spangles, if you’d let me finish the story,” Tony snapped irritably. He calmed down, settling back in on the couch. “We met at a convention in the tower a little while ago, and we started talking. I couldn’t believe all the things I was hearing; I mean, I’m brilliant, so when I tell you that I was blown away, you know it’s something.”

Steve had trouble swallowing down his retort. He had to be a supportive friend here, not a nagging one. It could all have just been very innocent. “Well, it’s nice that you…met someone. Um, I’m still not sure what the problem is.”

Tony sighed dramatically. Of course, that was the only way he ever did anything, so Steve wasn’t too put out. “The problem is that we met over a month ago! I wanted to get in contact soon after, maybe the next day, but then that stupid giant lizard had to go and invade again. I thought it only attacked Japan, but apparently it’s starting to migrate, so of course I had to help Bruce look into it, and by the time that was over something else decided to attack!”

“We have been pretty busy lately,” Steve agreed.

“So basically, my problem is that it’s been too long. What do I even say? ‘Oh, sorry I haven’t been in touch, we had to save the world from a trio of teenage Valley girls who used makeup and accessories to fight and spy on people.’ Who’s going to believe that? It’s just going to sound like I’m blowing him off.”

Steve had started to nod his head sympathetically when he heard that last sentence. ‘Him?’ Okay, this conversation was officially too personal for him. Time to get out of there as quickly as he could.

“It looks to me like you just need help starting a conversation again,” Steve tried to say reasonably. His voice sounded odd even to himself, but he couldn’t help it. Steve just wasn’t that used to conversations like this. He had just gotten Natasha to stop trying to set him up with random women he knew, too. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with Tony, especially if it was about a guy. That was getting a little too personal for Steve, who still found some of the changes that had happened while he was ‘asleep’ to be strange—not necessarily bad, just different from when he was around in the Forties. “Maybe…” Steve racked his brain for a solution, soon catching his eye on a piece of paper hanging on the wall. “Maybe there’s a Form that could help you?”

Tony stared at him for a moment before snapping his fingers at him. “Cap, you’re a genius. In this instance, at least. There’s a Form for everything. I’ll bet there’s one for this kind of situation, too!”

Steve shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, standing up quickly to escape the room. Maybe even the building. He was sure that there was some poor cat stuck in a tree somewhere, or maybe a little old lady who needed help crossing the street. Anything to get him out of this conversation. “Right. Well, good luck, Tony.”

He had almost made it to the door when Tony’s voice stopped him. “Oh, and Cap? I’m not cheating on Pepper or anything. I met another scientist.”

Steve’s ears turned a violent shade of red, and he was sure the rest of his face was just as flushed. “Well—! What was I supposed to think? You said you ‘met someone,’ and Natasha’s been pestering me about…about things like that, and—”

“Typical,” Tony snarked at him, smirk on his face. “Blame the Russian. How very original, Mr. Cold War.”

There was really no way to win against Stark when he was like this. The best Steve could hope, as he escaped the tower, was that his so called friend wouldn’t bring this up in front of the others.

* * *

BUREAUCRATIC STATIONARY  
**BELATED CORRESPONDENCE** (Form Q-22)  
Filing Date: REDACTED  
Message

Dear (Name of Recipient) Dr. Pym, From (Name of Sender) Tony Stark

I have been meaning to write to you since we spoke at (Location of Last Conversation) the robotics convention I held in my basement (by which I mean the lower fifty floors of my tower). Please do not interpret my silence as a strange form of judgment of your [social skills/ _ **looks**_ /health]. Rather, it is that I am quite prone to simply (Personal Foible That Explains Your Shortcoming) saving the world from tyranny, destruction, and random things that keep attacking. Our meeting was quite memorable, I recall you mentioning (Subject of Discussion) your theory that robots could become autonomous and intelligent like my AI which I remember as quite (Describe Your Reaction to the Conversation) intriguing. 

[ _ **X**_ ] I wish to continue our talk, as I feel that we could potentially be [ _ **Friends**_ /Lovers/ _ **Conspirators**_ ]

[ _ **X**_ ] I have a question regarding the matter of (Important Subject That Has Weighed Heavily On You) how to best create sentience in robots (you see, I’m trying to give JARVIS a body…).

[] To clarify, when I said (Something You Regret) I actually meant (What You Wished You Had Said). 

_Since We Have Spoken :_  
_[ **X** ] I have remembered you fondly._  
_[] I have married/divorced/widowed._  
_[] I find myself seeking employ._  
_[] I have had a change of fortune._  
_[ **X** ] I have had terrible dreams._  
_[ **X** ] Regrettably, little has changed._

_You Strike Me As :_  
_[ **X** ] Kind_  
_[] Generous_  
_[] Patient_  
_[ **X** ] Optimistic_  
_[ **X** ] Intelligent_  
_[ **X** ] Brilliant_  
_[ **X** ] Talented_  
_[] Beautiful_  
_[ **X** ] Honest_  
_[ **X** ] Clever_  
_[] Charming_  
_[ **X** ] Similar to Myself_

 _Postscript :There is no need for your reply to be as slow in coming as this letter was in sending. Indeed, I consider punctuality to be one of the most admirable virtues, and can assure you that all future messages will be delivered in a markedly more expedient fashion._


	20. Request for Health Improvement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is stuck in S.H.I.E.L.D. medical with nothing to do. Fortunately for him, there are people thinking of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t ask me why I like picking on Clint so much. Still, it’s a great excuse for much loved Bromance feels between two people who don’t really interact with one another.

Clint was really starting to hate S.H.I.E.L.D. medical. Okay, so he already clearly hated it, but after his little ‘fun trip’ with Loki, as well as somehow ending up in Iceland that one time, Clint felt like he had seen the inside of the medical ward more times than he cared to remember. Okay, so he had had some minor brain trauma both times, but still. I mean, who worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. who _didn’t_ have brain trauma at one point in their career?

The real kicker this time, though, was that Clint wasn’t even here for brain trauma. That he could have passed off as just another ‘one of those things’, sneaked out of medical and then gone back with his team without actually having too much trouble. This time, though, Clint was strapped to a bed in the sickbay with only Natasha and occasionally Coulson for company. Worst of all, neither of his two supposed friends would even try to help break him out! They both just told him to sit back and let the doctors do their job.

I mean really, so he caught some strange, unknown virus that S.H.I.E.L.D. was having a hard time figuring out. He felt fine. He could still hit a target, albeit his accuracy started to go down after about thirty meters. Did that really mean that he needed to just stay here and do _nothing_ all day?

Clint was just about at the point where he planned to stage a jailbreak while Natasha wasn’t looking when one of the nurses walked over to him, a slight smile on her face. She held a tray that at first appeared empty, though on closer examination showed a simple piece of paper sitting on it. Why she needed a tray (practically a silver platter; Clint wondered if she was going anywhere with this…) for just one piece of paper, he didn’t know.

“This came for you, Agent Barton,” she told him, setting the tray down on the table next to his bed. Clint’s arms were for the most part still strapped to the bed, but he could move his wrists well enough. Even that, though, wouldn’t have brought the paper any closer to him. Clint was curious now. Who could have sent him something? Was it orders from Nick Fury that he was finally to be released?

The nurse seemed to notice his struggle and bit back a smile as she placed the piece of paper into one of his free hands. She walked away, supposedly to get back to her duties. Clint took one look at the paper and immediately started to feel his hopes raise.

A good Form could always put him in a good mood.

* * *

  
**REQUEST FOR**  
**HEALTH IMPROVEMENT**  
With Step by Step Instructions  
(Form DBM-T8)

Dear (Name of Recipient) Clint Barton,  
Date Sent: REDACTED

Picture of health that you are, I must say I was a little surprised to hear that you are under the weather. It is truly a testament to the poor state of this world when a (Constitutional Quality) physically fit person such as yourself comes down with a (Gruesome Adjective) horrific case of (Illness or Injury) Arcanum Flu of Uspiria.

While I’ve never been afflicted with (Nickname for Affliction) The Arcane Flu, my (Distant Family Member) Court Physician on Asgard is a (Profession) doctor, and sends this advice: Firstly, you have got to keep a [Positive/Healthy/ _ **Aggressive**_ ] attitude. If you let this get the better of you, then you are soon absolutely going to start having problems with your [Spleen/Appendix/Grout] ( _written in the margins was ‘Yes’_ ). A warning: If you find that your (Body Part) diaphragm starts turning (Color) a deep orange, as never before seen outside of the Rainbow Bridge, you should seek professional help right away. Once you have wearied of being ill, we have a secret cure in my family—you just have to (Verb) swallow a (Noun) cube of ice; perhaps Loki can help? twice a day. No matter how strange that may sound, it is guaranteed to fix you up fast.

Lastly, if you are ever tempted to succumb to your illness, remember: Buck up! The world needs you. And I am sure you will be back to your (Stereotypical Hobby) climbing around in ventilation shafts in no time and we will all try to forget that this ever happened.

Sincerely, your [ _ **X**_ ] Coworker [ _ **X**_ ] Friend [ _ **X**_ ] Family [] Lover [] Doctor [] Undertaker (Name of Sender) Thor Odinsson

* * *

Clint sat back in his bed as well as he could, staring at the ceiling. When Tasha came back, he was going to tell her to bring him ice cubes. Lots and lots of ice cubes.

In the meantime, Clint idly turned the Form over to see a handwritten note from Thor on the back.

_I really can’t tell you how scarily accurate this Form is. It perfectly listed everything that I wished to say, though it is not enough to convey my hopes that you will indeed get better soon. I’m still not quite sure how you managed to catch the Arcane Flu since it is usually only seen on Vanaheim, but it causes me to think that there is still much work to be done in the future._

_Get better soon, my friend, and may we still be able to continue our glorious battle against the forces that wish to break us._

_Your shield-brother,_  
_Thor Odinsson_

Yeah. Ice cubes sounded good right about now.


	21. Recommended Investment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony receives a recommendation to invest in a new product. Or, Thor and Loki plan to take over the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following is a headcannon of myself, my sister, and a former roommate/good friend of ours.

Tony Stark was more than used to receiving things in the mail. Usually it was bills, fan mail, hate mail, subpoenas from the government, and the occasional lawsuit requesting he take part in a paternity test. Frankly, that last one was insulting, especially since Tony was in a committed relationship with his CEO, thank you very much.

Then there were the letters that would ask him to endorse something or some idea or whatever. Tony didn’t really care since these requests were usually for a good cause and something that he was already looking into. And anyway, most of his mail came electronically these days. There were the occasional physical letters, though, and they were a novel to get.

One particular letter asking for his endorsement—no, his _investment_ stood out to him, though. He read through it again, feeling amused, slightly impressed, bewildered and indignant all at the same time. Really, Tony probably would have gone ahead and endorsed the product at least since it was sent to him by Form.

The senders, though, were a little troubling.

Because really, was it such a good idea for Thor to be helping his brother with a plan that was clearly Step One towards world domination? 

Tony thought for a moment before carefully putting the Form in a ‘Consider It’ pile rather than the trash can. Depending on how well it sells, as well as what the effects on the populace and the world were, he could maybe get behind endorsing it. Investing was still a little too early to tell, but Tony felt like he could at least add his name to the thing. After all; the two Asgardian brothers had sent their request to him by Form.

They knew just how to play him.

* * *

OFFICIAL NOTICE  
**RECOMMENDED INVESTMENT**  
STATEMENT (Form: UC-227)

Dear (Name of Recipient) Tony Stark, the other day I was perusing the merchandise in (Name of Store) I didn’t really care to notice; they’re all the same. I hardly think it matters, when I saw a (Descriptive Adjective) absolutely wonderful woman’s hair care product (Name of Item) Frigga (Maybe She’s Born With It; Maybe It’s Frigga). It was so (Adjective) utterly beyond Midgardian standards (Loki…/Well it is!/), I felt obligated to tell you. Frankly, I have never seen anything like it—it looks like a (Object of Comparison) dream and is (Extraordinary Property of Item) named after our mother. Because after all, what else would we name a beauty product? All I can say is: (Exclamation or Proclamation) Go out and buy it/endorse it/ whatever right now or I will attempt to take over your foolish realm once more/Loki, we talked about this…! I firmly believe that [] You [] Me [ _** X ** _] Everyone should get one. In fact, I would gladly (Extreme Action) smite an entire city ( _sentence is then marked out and instead replaced with:_ ) forgo Pop tarts and other Midgardian delicacies to have one right now. You should review it immediately. I anticipate you will be (Reaction) agreeable.

Sincerely, your (Relation to Recipient) former tormentor/teammate and friend (Name of Sender) Thor and Loki

_Rationality of Investment :_  
_Insane—Justifiable—Tax Deductable_  
_X-X-X-X-X-X- **X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Pros :_  
_[ **X** ] Sheer Sex Appeal_  
_[ **X** ] Limited Availability_ (Written out to the side is _“Don’t worry, Loki is currently ‘obtaining’ the factories to make more.”)_  
_[ **X** ] Utter Extravagance_  
_[ **X** ] Intimidate Neighbors_  
_[ **X** ] Support Artisans_  
_[ **X** ] To Create Envy_  
_[] It is Orange ( “Some of the products are”/“I don’t understand, is this a positive trait?”)_  
_[] (Fill in the Blank) **It is 100% better than anything previously seen on Midgard.**_

_Cons :_  
_[] Exorbitant Cost_  
_[ **X** ] Conspicuous_  
_[] Unwearable_  
_[] Too Big_  
_[] Too Small_  
_[] Lack of Space_  
_[] It is Orange (“I don’t understand, is this a negative quality?”)_  
_[ **X** ] (Fill in the Blank) **Fool, there is no downside.**_

_Recommendations :_  
_[ **X** ] I Plan to Get One_  
_[ **X** ] You Should Get One_  
_[] You Should Give Me One_

_Likelihood of Regret :_  
_Impossible—When The Bill Arrives—Immediate_  
_**X** -X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X_

_Additional Notes (For Those Who Are Less Than Speechless):  Stark, you and I (Thor) are friends I believe. When I tell you that this investment is for the best, I would like you to believe in my words and understand that this is true. Loki, while still admittedly on Midgard, has finally found something constructive to do with his time. I think you’ll agree with me when I say that there are worse things he could be doing than taking over the beauty and health care industry and re-naming everything after our mother._


	22. Last Will & Testament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony has some important news for everyone. Not everyone agrees on what's actually 'important'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the title name, it's really not supposed to be angsty.

The Bureau of Communication  
**Last Will & Testament**  


DEAREST FRIENDS, FAMILY, AND COURT OFFICIALS: In the event that you are reading this, I have departed this mortal coil for the last time. DO NOT DESPAIR. I only hope that I died as I lived, and that you will remember me for (Requested Memory) saving Manhattan from alien attack, pretty much carrying the team, etc. and a (Significant Role) honestly, there’s too much to mention and my time’s short as it is. As a reward for being (Compliment) a man of science, I bequest my (Gift) robot children to (Recipient Name) Doctor Bruce Banner. Do not take this lightly—know that it is my most valued possession and I wish for you to care for it as if I am still alive inside of it! _(In parenthesis is an additional note: **Make sure you give them play dates, they pine.** )_ Give my (Additional Gift) JARVIS to (Other Recipient) Pepper Pots, and have (Responsible Person or Institution) definitely not S.H.I.E.L.D. Eh, let Pepper sort out what to do with the rest.

One more messy matter—what shall be done with my mortal remains? If even a glimmer of my former radiance shines on, please (Requested Preservation/Disposal Technique) bronze my body and place it (Cadaver Storage Location) in front of Avengers Tower for all to see. If this proves too (Adverb) awesome for comprehension, and/or against city regulations, please donate me to (Institution, Philanthropy, or Business) science. I’m sure they will think of something [ _ **Noble/Profitable/Surprising**_ ] to do with me. 

While I still have your attention, let me share with you this bit of advice: Always (Sage Advice) listen to Pepper and JARVIS, and never let anyone (Verb) your (Noun) actually, I’m going to keep this one as is. It already seems like good advice. Also, you’ll find (Secret Thing) design schematics for the next 50+ Ironman armor prototypes hidden in (Exotic Location) at the bottom of Hawkeye’s quiver. There’s a secret compartment. I always meant to tell you about that, but it never came up. 

I love you all, (Signature of Deceased) Anthony Howard Stark Witness: (Name of Trusted Advisor) JARVIS. 

* * *

Natasha entered the main common room of Avengers tower clutching the latest Form of the week. As one of the ones to actually bring the Forms back, she had a certain fondness for them. If her day was going badly, she could always pull one out and bring a smile to her lips. Of particular pride to Natasha was the acclaim the Forms were starting to bring about, at least inside of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

But, there comes a time when even the Forms start to get old. And it just so figures that it, of course, has to do with the resident drama queen, Tony Stark. 

Spotting Bruce and Steve talking to each other in hushed tones, Natasha strode across the room. She held out the Form when she saw she had their attention. 

“Did you also receive this in the mail today?” 

Bruce sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. He looked like he hadn’t had a wink of sleep the entire night, most likely staying up with Tony on his ‘deathbed’. “I was there when he had JARVIS send them out. I tried to talk him out of it, but, well…you know how he is.” 

Steve shook his head, his mouth tight with irritation. “I can’t even be in the same room with him anymore. Every time I tell him he’s going to be okay and to stop complaining, he keeps bringing up how sickly I used to be when I was a kid.” Steve narrowed his eyes. “Apparently, I should sympathize with him more because of that. I told him that medicine now is much better than back in my day, but he won’t listen.” Crossing his arms, Steve shook his head. "I even told him I'd had the same thing when I was a kid and obviously I made it. He should just stop blowing things out of proportion." 

“We thought it best to separate the two before things got a little…violent,” Bruce said mildly, offering up a slight smile. 

Natasha returned his smile with a wry one of her own. She looked around the room, noticing they were missing members of their team. 

“Where’s Barton?" 

Bruce and Steve both coughed a laugh, clearly trying to contain themselves. 

“He’s busy tearing apart his quiver to try to find where Stark put the ‘secret compartment,” Steve explained, expression clearing up. “He checked it over before and decided that Stark was too…not here, right now, to have actually done something, but now he’s holed up in the lab.” 

Banner chuckled, though he looked a little worried. “Last I saw of him, he was muttering something about using our equipment to check for it that way. I think he was using the x-ray machine when I left him.” 

Natasha shook her head. Stark really should have known better than to try anything with Clint’s bow or quiver. The impressive part would be if he’d actually managed to install a secret compartment; Clint was…obsessive about his weapons of choice. He would have surely noticed if anything was off with either the dimensions or weight. 

“And Thor?” 

“Out procuring remedies for our dramatic friend’s ailment,” the Thunder God himself said, flying in from outside on the terrace. Thor glanced down at the bag he held, having just come from the local pharmacy. “Are we sure that these will help him? On Asgard, if someone is ill we usually go to the physician for treatment.” 

“We do the same here,” Steve explained, accepting the bag from Thor. “But sometimes there are illnesses that you can easily treat yourself. That’s where these come in.” He shook the bag slightly for emphasis. Natasha sneaked a peek inside and was amused to see that among the usual headache and fever reducers there were also quite a number of sedatives. 

“You mean those placebos!” Stark’s voice weakly made its way through the slightly open door to his room. “Those are only going to treat symptoms; they’re not going to cure me!” 

Bruce sighed roughly, clearly having heard this argument again. He opened the door and strode into the room with Natasha and the others behind him. “That’s because there is no cure, Tony.” 

“Exactly!” Stark exclaimed. He sat propped up on his bed, pale and shivering with many blankets pulled up around him. Pepper sat next to him with a strained look on her face. 

Dutifully, she held his hand and patted the back of it every now and then. “There’s no cure. There’s never been a cure. It’s still up in the air if there ever _will_ be a cure. Why aren’t you more worried about this?” 

“Because, Tony, you’re blowing everything out of proportion,” Bruce tried. He glanced at Pepper. “You’ve even made out a last will and testament by Form. Don’t you think that’s a bit premature?” 

Tony scoffed as best as he could. “Not at all. People have _died _from this, you know. Spangles knows what I'm talking about." Steve growled under his breath, not appreciating being used as 'proof' for Tony.__

Pepper rubbed the back of his hand. “But Tony, you’re not going to die. You’ve had your vaccinations-” 

“Which clearly didn’t work,” Tony grumbled under his breath. 

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed, fingering his new ‘Vaccinate Your Kids!’ button he’d gotten thanks to recent events. 

“-and you have excellent medical coverage. If something happens, we’ll make sure you’re taken care of. In the meantime, what’s this about a will and testament? Have you even shown it to legal yet?” She took the Form that Natasha wordlessly handed to her, skimming it with raised eyebrows. “Wait, you had JARVIS sign and witness? How did you do that?” 

“Robot arms and a pen, how else?” Tony answered as if it should have been obvious. Everyone in the room collectively chose to just ignore that for now. Tony’s answer to everything always had to do with robots. “Anyway, I still don’t know why you’re not more freaked out by this. When Katniss was sick everyone acted a lot different. You even took him into S.H.I.E.L.D. medical.” 

“That’s because I had an alien disease, I literally started turning different colors,” Clint answered, storming into the room. "You get the Arcane Flu, _then_ you can mope around." 

“Actually, it was only your diaphragm,” Thor pointed out, “though I suppose the point still stands.” 

“Details.” 

Clint slammed his empty quiver onto Tony’s bed, glaring at the invalid. “I don’t even care about your little pity party over here. What I want to know, is where the compartment you talked about in your Form is? I’ve checked this thing over every way I know how, and I still can’t find it. I’d almost think it didn’t actually exist if it weren’t for the fact that I _know_ I can feel the extra weight, now. Of course you would use my backup quiver. What. Did. You. Do.” 

Pepper stood uneasily, trying to keep herself in between Clint and the bedridden Tony. “Maybe we can leave that for later, when Tony’s a little more…coherent.” Clint glared down at Tony but backed off. 

Tony, however, had to ruin his chances even more. “But don’t you see? I’m not going to get better. I know the way I’m feeling, I could kick it any moment.” 

“Tony. You’re not going to die. You just have the flu.” 


	23. Mistake Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As with every mission, mistakes are made. There's a Form for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starting with this chapter, considering all of the different movies that have been made since the first Avengers movie, the cast starts to get a little...expanded.

After a very long, tiring, frustrating, and ultimately confusing battle, the Avengers collapsed in the shared common room of the Avengers Tower. Black Panther, being the most wonderful being in the universe, had brought out the medical supplies and was helping to patch up the wounded. Vision worked away in the kitchen, determined to make the perfect ‘welcome home after victory!’ meal. Not nearly as injured as some of the others, Wanda and Pietro had retreated to the kitchen to help and ‘supervise.’

Steve was under the distinct impression that their newest members had decided to retreat away from the developing drama in the living room. If it weren’t for the fact that he’d wrenched his shoulder and was trying to assure Sam that he was, in fact, okay, he’d have joined them. At least Bucky was in Switzerland; Steve’d never be able to live this down.

“I simply don’t see what the issue is.”

“And _that_ , right there, is the problem!”

Steve looked over to the glass doors that led out to the patio where two figures were silhouetted against the night sky. Thor had his head wrapped in bandages but already seemed to be on the mend. On the couch next to him, Tony sat hunched over glaring yet confused.

There was a lot of that going around.

Loki sighed and shook his head, hands together behind his back. “Then please, _enlighten me_. If it weren’t for my actions tonight, Thor’s honor would be un-avenged—no pun intended—and your group would probably _still_ be fighting those creatures. Perhaps they would have even escaped. I helped you out tonight, when we all know I could have just stood by and done nothing. Am I not _allowed_ to be compensated?”

Thor shook his head minutely, careful of his recent injury. “Brother, no one here is saying that you did anything wrong. They are merely objecting to recompense that _you_ chose on your own, _without_ consulting our group, first.”

“There is no way in hell that I’m okay with Loki being an Avenger,” Clint said from the other side of the room, glaring straight at Loki. “No way.”

Loki barely glanced his way before shrugging. “Your captain already agreed. Publicly, need I remind you?”

Steve winced, ignoring Sam’s fretting. At the time he’d been fighting against the monsters’ giant pet and had just thrown it into a building, waiting for it to shake off its confusion, when he’d been accosted by not only the media but a rather insistent and angry police detective. They’d been asking him rapid fire questions and the beast had just climbed its way out of the hole in the wall. Steve had barely heard the detective demanding to know if Loki was with them or not when Steve snapped at her “Yes, he’s one of us, now let us do our _job_!”

Next thing he knew, his quote was being used in all the top running news stories that night. Steve kind of really, really hated being the Avengers’ show-monkey for the news agencies.

Doctor Banner, huddled in a corner away from everyone else, shifted on his feet. “You realize we’re going to have to tell S.H.I.E.L.D. something now, right? They’re just going to keep calling us…”

As one, the group looked over to the still-ringing phone, not a single person even bothering to approach it. Since before they’d even returned to the tower it had been ringing off the hook, no doubt either being from any number of new agencies looking for a quote or from S.H.I.E.L.D. asking for answers. So far, nobody really had any they were willing to share just yet.

From the spare couch Natasha chuckled softly under her breath. “Oh, I think I know how to spin this.”

* * *

**Bureau of Communication**  
MISTAKE REPORT  
 _Recorded for posterity_  
Form M-1292 

**Mistake Description** : ( _I.E. Using a stolen credit card, Storing a pen in a shirt pocket, Skiing while intoxicated_ ) Loki may have accidentally become one of the Avengers

 **Classification :**   
[ ** _X_** ] Personal  
[ ** _X_** ] Professional  
[ ** _X_** ] Existential

**RELEVANT BACKGROUND INFORMATION**

**Name of Person Filing Report :** _Natasha Romanov (Black Widow) and Clint Barton (Hawkeye)_

**Occupation :** _Avenger/Spy (Super Spy)_

**Age :** _REDACTED_

**Location of Incident :** _New York City_

**Name of Other Person/s Involved :** _Tony Stark (Ironman), Steve Rogers (Captain America), Bruce Banner (Hulk), Thor (Thor), Pietro and Wanda Maximoff (Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch), Loki (Loki), Unnamed Female Police Officer (We’ll probably get a name later. Maybe.)_

**Occupation :** _Way too many to list/peace-keeping/Trickster God_

**Relationship :** _Fellow crime fighters on the same team/innocent (?) bystander, interloper, the usual_

**Time of Incident :** _Just after sunset, early evening_

**INCIDENT DETAILS**

**Explain the Situation :** _After receiving numerous reports about sightings of flying stone masonry figures ‘coming to life’ at night, centered around a specific building in downtown Manhattan, the main team plus newbies Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver headed out to deal with the trouble. Members Vision and Black Panther stayed behind to provide backup and logistical support as needed._

**What You Thought Would Happen :** _The team would surround the building, teaming up in pairs as needed to take on the five hostiles and what could only be assumed was the hostile’s ‘pet.’ The ultimate goal would be to capture said hostiles and hand them over to the correct authorities._

[ ** _X_** ] I knew that this was unlikely

**What Actually Happened :** _As planned the team surrounded the building and engaged in fighting. What wasn’t planned, however, was for another hostile to come into play, specifically a female masonry figure compared to the all-male hostiles who were already being engaged with the team. The female hostile seemed to take some kind of special offence with Thor for reasons unknown. Said female hostile delivered a heavy blow to the back of Thor’s head, sending him hurtling into a nearby building. It was at this time that we realized that Loki had been watching the fight from a distance._

_Loki then joined in the battle, using his magic prowess to help win the battle. (In an unrelated note, the whole while he was fighting he was verbally berating his brother on his lack of awareness in battle and being ‘a disgrace to the family name,’) Understandably, Loki’s inclusion in the battle caused some trouble with not only the team itself but with the police waiting to take the hostiles into custody. In what can only be guessed was a decision made in the heat of battle, Loki then declared himself to be part of the Avengers with Captain Rogers backing him up to avoid further unwanted trouble._

[] I was not surprised

**CONCLUSIONS**

**List Consequences/Costs/Damages :** _National media running with the news that former world invader Loki has been ‘approved’ of by the Avengers, and formally forgiven; estimated thousands of dollars worth of damages to nearby buildings because of the battle (Oops, we, did it again/really, Clint?); possible strained relations with the New York City Police Department; gratitude from a certain business owner, who Tony says sounds like Will Riker; reconciliation between alien/godly brothers; what looks to be a budding magic rivalry between Loki and Scarlet Witch_

[ ** _X_** ] Additional Effects Cannot Be Calculated

**Summarize The Lesson Learned From This Experience :** _“Always be aware of your surroundings”_

[ ** _X_** ] I Intend To Follow This Advice.

**Likelihood of Repeated Occurrence** _Select One_

Inevitable—Statistically Probable—God Forbid  
X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X- ** _X_**

**This Mistake Was :**

[] Educational   
[] Easily Avoidable  
[ ** _X_** ] Embarrassing  
[ ** _X_** ] Expensive   
[] Enjoyable

**I Am :**   
[ ** _X_** ] Ashamed  
[ ** _X_** ] Scarred   
[] Stronger   
[] Wiser  
[ ** _X_** ] Still Confused

**_I declare under penalty of perjury, that the information I entered on this document is true and correct to the best of my knowledge._ **

**Signature/Initials**  
REDACTED

**Date of Filing**  
REDACTED

**Time**  
REDACTED

**[DO NOT WRITE IN THIS SPACE]**  
-Thank You For Writing Neatly And Clearly-


	24. Non-Disclosure Agreement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gotta secret, can you keep it? Steve kind of wished he'd at least been _asked_ first.

Steve stared down at the piece of paper before him, re-reading the document for what had to have been the fifth time already. As with anything these days, it was yet another Form. Low and behold, it was even filled out for him.

…It was very, very worrying how Clint was able to forge his signature so easily. They would be having a long, long talk about that later. Maybe even now, depending on how Steve’s mood played out. Currently they were alone in Avengers Tower, the two being sitting across from one another at a small table in the kitchen area. Steve sat straight in his chair with his arms folded while Clint was more relaxed in his seat.

“Look, I know you’re upset I forged your signature,” Clint said without the slightest hint of remorse. “But I guarantee you were going to sign anyway. I just sped things up a bit.”

Steve fixed him with his best ‘disappointed’ look. Being a father, Clint was unsurprisingly used to that look, being both on the giving and receiving end of it. Exposure had made him immune, it seemed. Idly, Steve wondered just how many toys his kids had because Clint had previously caved to the ‘Look.’

“And what, you couldn’t have waited for me to _actually sign_ first?” Steve said instead, raising an eyebrow. Clint shrugged.

“Look, it’s for a good cause. If it makes you feel better, I can just get you a new one for you to sign this time and we’ll be good.”

Steve’s teammate had a funny idea about what ‘good’ meant. Admittedly, Steve could see where he was coming from. It was a good cause, in a way, and normally Steve would be thrilled to help out. He loved being able to help his friends. In this case, however, the means didn’t quite justify the end. Some things just weren’t worth the price, no matter how important they may be.

Clint could see that his friend still wasn’t quite convinced. Leaning in closer across the table, he tried a different tactic. “Cap, you know how much these Forms make me laugh. It doesn’t really mean anything, just a gag, really. But you know how much this would mean to them. The Team’s the closest thing they’ve got to family. They’d want everybody to be there, and you’re the only one I can really trust to help me pull this off.” He stared Steve straight in the eye, and dang it, Steve couldn’t find it in himself to look away. “Will you help me?”

And like that Steve knew he was beaten. With a loud sigh he looked back down at the Form on the table in distaste.

“As long as you never, _ever_ refer to me by my social, then we have a deal,” he said firmly. There were some things Steve could just not compromise on. It was already bad enough that Clint apparently already knew his social security number; he didn’t want him to just go throwing the number out around other people. Steve still liked what little privacy he had, thank you very much.

Clint smiled broadly, leaning back in his chair. The smug man knew he’d won. “That’s fine.”

Steve shook his head. “You know some of this doesn’t even make any sense, right?”

“Hey, if it’s written on there then you have to follow it. I’m already bending the rules by only calling you by your code name.”

Steve glared. “And another thing. Why is _this_ my code name?”

A quick smirk. “You know. Like ‘ _Eagle has landed_ ’? The Mars Rover, the Space Station?” Steve responded with a flat look. “Don’t worry about it. It was after your time.”

“You know I can bench press you through a wall, right?”

Snatching up the Form, Clint made a hasty exit. “I’ll see you later to go over the details! And don’t tell anyone!”

* * *

The Bureau of Communication  
**Universal**  
**NON-DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT**  


This is an agreement between (Name of Secret Holder) Clint Barton/Hawkeye ((Hereafter referred to as “We”)) and (Name of Ignorant Party) Captain Steve Rogers/Captain America ((Referred to as “You”)) regarding the subject of (Confidential Information) Pietro Maximoff/Quicksilver and Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch’s surprise birthday party ((“The Secret”)).

By signing this document, You agree to these terms both retroactively and in perpetuity:

1\. Maintaining the secrecy of The Secret is of the utmost importance. Under no circumstances should You disclose its nature to lovers, friends, family members, priests, spiritual advisors, or any employee of a governmental agency. If The Secret comes up socially, you are instructed to begin sneezing violently until the inquiry subsides. If subpoenaed, You are instructed to plead ignorance and make a reference to a family history of Alzheimer’s disease.

2\. The Secret’s code name must never be spoken aloud. The Secret itself must not be written on paper. You will be expected to memorize any pertinent information—mnemonic devices or memory enhancing drugs are not permitted.

3\. Whenever We allow You to meet with us, You should enter the premises via the rear door marked “Loading Dock.” If We deem it necessary, You consent to be blindfolded and to wear earmuffs while being escorted through the premises.

4\. The Secret may only be discussed within a cold, windowless room. All correspondence should be written with invisible ink. Mail room staff and Postal employees cannot be trusted with The Secret, thus documents can only be exchanged by slipping them under the locked door marked “Private.”

5\. We reserve the right to monitor both personal and professional telephone calls and written correspondence. Many of our associates choose to refrain from romantic entanglements or to divorce from any existing marriages. While We cannot legally require such lifestyle choices, You are encouraged to use your best judgment.

6\. In all future communications, You will identify yourself by your code name (written below). We will refer to You only by your nine-digit social security number.

7\. The terms and language of this agreement are also confidential.

If You are found to have or suspected of breaching the terms of this agreement, We will terminate our relationship with extreme prejudice. We will disavow any knowledge of You. We will also withhold any monies due, and may confiscate valuable personal possessions. You may also be held accountable in a court of law for damages both financial and emotional arising even indirectly from your trespass.

“I agree to be bound by these reasonable precautions to protect the confidentiality of the aforementioned Secret, and understand that my strict observance to these procedures is required to continue the relationship. I voluntarily sign away my rights and freedoms for the privilege of learning the Secret.”

(Your Signature) REDACTED (Social Security Number) REDACTED (Code Name of Agent) Rover

**_Any three men can share a secret if two of them are dead.  
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN_ **


	25. A Token of My Affections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nice to know you care. Sometimes it's nice to have friends who care for you (especially if they're pushy about it).

Dr. Banner was busy at work in his lab, as he usually was these days. It wasn’t that he didn’t have other things to do, per se. It wasn’t even that he had anything particularly important to do in the lab. But, after the twins’ birthday party Bruce just wasn’t feeling as sociable as he usually was. And considering he wasn’t that talkative to begin with…

Well, the lab seemed like the perfect place for him. There was nothing but science all around him, rules and logistics that _just made sense_ in a world that was rapidly losing any semblance of order, and everything was as controlled as he wanted it to be. Nothing new or surprising unless it was a result to some experiment or another. No one around to force him into idle chatter that he couldn’t really keep up with (who cared if another celebrity was pregnant, or cheating, or doing some kind of scandal? Who cared if there was an on-going Scrabble match between T’Challa and Natasha? Or if Pietro was supposed to go to _Rome_ , Italy for dinner last night, not _Florence_ , Italy? Or if Steve was supposed to take part in a scheduled fight for charity drive and some challenger dressed like a devil ended up beating him somehow? Okay, that last one may have been important, but Steve wasn’t upset, so Bruce wasn’t either).

Really, everything was nice and peaceful in his lab. It was just the kind of environment that he’d sought out for years for himself. It was everything he wanted.

So why was it that it felt like Bruce was missing something?

Before he could really contemplate his musings any further the door to his lab slid open. With barely a glance up, Bruce acknowledged Tony from behind his beakers and flasks.

“Hey, Tony.”

“Bruce.”

It was his friend’s tone of voice that made him look up sharply. Tony casually walked into the lab, looking for all the world like he didn’t really have anything important to do down here. His voice, on the other hand, had the tone of ‘I have something important to tell you, but you won’t take it well so I’ll try to be subtle about it.’ Yeah, Tony didn’t do subtle very well.

Slowly setting his work to the side, Bruce regarded Tony carefully. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?” Tony sounded surprised. Tony was a great actor, Bruce reminded himself. “What could be wrong? You know, other than one of my best friends holing himself up in the lab all day, not leaving for even basic meals, flat out _ostracizing_ himself from society. Which, you know, I thought we’d worked on before. But I guess I was wrong. So, I guess there’s that, if you want an answer to your question.”

Being friends with Tony was never easy. Still, on some level, Bruce was glad that he obviously cared about his well being. On another level, Bruce wasn’t quite ready to admit anything was wrong, even to himself.

“Tony, I’m not avoiding you,” Bruce tried to say as soothingly as possible without insulting his friend. “I just have a lot of work to do.” A lie, but not as big of one as it could be; Bruce could easily find himself more work to do. Tony probably knew that, but there was no point bringing it up.

Tony, as predicted, didn’t look convinced. He walked to the opposite side of the table Bruce was working at to face him head on.

“Yeah, big guy, I don’t buy that.” Tony gave him a look daring him to try to contradict him. “Ever since Wanda and Pietro’s party you’ve been looking like someone drowned your cat. You _especially_ avoid me and Pepper which is making _both_ of us upset, and quite frankly a little insulted. I think I know what’s really troubling you.”

Well, that was a surprise. “You do?” Bruce asked. Bruce sure didn’t know what it could be.

Tony merely nodded sagely. “I even have the perfect solution, too!” From somewhere behind his back, the genius billionaire pulled out a piece of paper. A familiar looking piece of paper. “A Form stating A Token of My Affections.”

Suddenly feeling _very, very awkward_ Bruce started shifting uncertainly on his feet. “Oh. Well, that’s. Um. Very nice of you, Tony, but I don’t think that’s very…appropriate.”

Tony’s face melted into confusion. “What are you talking about? Pepper helped me write it and everything. No way you can say it’s ‘not appropriate’ or anything like that. Not really my style, but I happen to think it’s very sweet. Definitely a start for you, but you can’t expect me and Pepper to do _everything_ for you.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be confused. He took the Form from his friend’s hand and took a better look at it. His face started to heat up as Tony chuckled at him. Bruce was still reading the Form when his friend clapped him on the arm and turned to leave.

“Don’t wait too long to send that out!” Tony warned. “I still have the master to that Form, and I can _and will_ fill it out differently and send it out myself if you do!”

* * *

**_A TOKEN OF MY AFFECTIONS_ **

_To My Dearest (Name of Recipient) Betty Ross, From Your (Title) dearest, most magnanimous (Name of Sender) Bruce Banner_

 **How Are You?** It doesn’t matter, for I am about to make your day! In this ( ** _Modern_** /Selfish/ ** _Dastardly_** ) day and age, we too rarely show appreciation for each other. I’ve decided it’s high time to do something about it, so I’m giving you a (Effusive Adjective) stupendous (gift) Form of My Affection. Yes, it may be hard to believe, and you are surely saying, “Heavens no! That is far too ( ** _Generous_** /Insightful/Brilliant) of you!” But let me assure you that it is deserved.

 ** _PLEASE, TREASURE THIS GIFT!_** It is more than a reminder of me and my generous affections. You should see it not just as a first-class (Kind of Gift)  heartfelt letter, but as a celebration of your (Unique Skill or Characteristic) ability to see past the Other Guy and see me for whom I really am. Lest you scheme up with a way to repay me, let me say that no reciprocation is called for. I may even go so far as to refuse your gift—That is how serious I am. Unless of course you offer me (A Particularly Alluring Thing) your continued friendship and love.

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone is interested, the book that my sister and I got these forms from is the Formal Notices: From The Bureau of Communication by Joshua and David Keay.


End file.
